Cheating Death
by neutral
Summary: [complete] Harry rashly makes a sacrifice in an unexpected situation. Sirius is now faced with a difficult task: to travel through the unpredictable land of the dead and guide Harry home.
1. cheating lies

Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.   
  
a/n see bottom. The title won't make sense until later, so bear with me here. One of the first stories I actually took the time to plan past the climax! Should probably keep the habit…   
  
  
**Cheating Death**  
by neutral   
  
  
Chapter one - cheating lies   
  
  
Harry rubbed his eyes groggily as he glanced at the clock in the dim light. It was still dark, but he didn't feel like sleeping again. The nightmare was still fresh in his mind, and although he couldn't remember it, he could still feel the lingering sense of pain and hopelessness. He had been having a lot of dreams lately, but he was sure they were not about the Triwizard Tournament. Harry would remember those; the ones he had lately were different. Shrugging, he pushed them out of his mind. As long as his scar didn't hurt, he didn't have to worry. But then again, his scar had been burning persistently ever since summer began, and he had learned to ignore it. Harry's definition of his scar hurting was a sharp blinding pain strong enough to split his skull.   
  
Harry glanced out the window, barely making out the shadows. The moon had already set, and Hedwig would be returning soon. He wondered if she'd bring any mail tonight. During the summer, Ron and Hermione had been bombarding him with letters of encouragement; Harry knew they were mostly concerned, especially after the Triwizard Tournament. He was glad at least someone seems to care that he was still alive.   
  
But Sirius didn't even send one.   
  
It was totally uncharacteristic of Sirius, especially since over two weeks had passed, and over a month and a half since they communicated. Harry knew he was probably busy with Dumbledore's business, but knowing Sirius' personality, he would probably send him at least one or two letters telling Harry that he was safe.   
  
He wanted to write, but he knew he probably shouldn't. What if his letter gave away Sirius' position? What if it was intercepted? What if he got caught? But what if he was already caught? Dumbledore would tell him, wouldn't he?   
  
Sighing in defeat, Harry drew out a piece of parchment. He couldn't deal with the nagging voices anymore.   
  
  
_ Snuffles,   
  
Is everything alright? I haven't heard from you for some time and I was getting a bit worried. Sorry if I'm not suppose to write to you; I'll keep it as short as possible. Everything is fine here.   
  
_ Harry paused in his scribbling, wondering if he should tell Sirius about the strange dreams. But his scar didn't hurt, and he really didn't want to give his godfather any unnecessary worrying.   
  
_ Please write back soon.   
  
Harry.   
  
_  
He folded the parchment and waited impatiently for Hedwig's return, feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted.   
  
  
  
  
Harry ate his dinner in silence that night; a strange prickling in his stomach made him uneasy. It was the vague feeling that had been following him around second year, like something was watching his every move. He chewed his celery distractedly, wondering what could be wrong.   
  
Smack!   
  
A burning pain spread from his shoulder. Harry jumped out of his seat in surprise, tripping over his chair in the process. Dudley laughed, waving his Smeltings stick triumphantly. Aunt Petunia purposely ignored it, but Uncle Vernon looked delighted.   
  
"Didn't see it coming, did you Boy?" Uncle Vernon said, grinning past his newspaper. "That's it Dudley, take him by surprise!"   
  
Harry stood up in disgust, trying to keep his anger in check. Dudley had been taking pieces of him ever since summer began, most likely bitter about the ton tongue toffee incident. Picking up his chair slowly, Harry turned to leave the dinning room.   
  
"Not yet! Clean your dishes!" Aunt Petunia yelled after him.   
  
Harry scowled as he turned. He fixed a glare on his Aunt that instantly silenced her. For a brief moment, she looked horrified. Her characteristic frown was back in an instant, and she shoved the plates towards him with annoyance.   
  
"Don't expect me to clean up your mess," she mumbled.   
  
Harry glared as he nursed his sore shoulder, but decided that he really didn't need his relatives mad at him. He took the dishes to the sink, Dudley taking another swipe at him with his stick as he passed. He considered banging and making as much noise as possible, but changed his mind. It would be rather childish, and he really didn't want to lower himself to his cousin's level.   
  
Nevertheless, by the time he had finished and was making his way upstairs, he was in fairly a foul mood. His frown faded when he saw Hedwig's shadow sitting on his bed. Bruised shoulder forgotten, he eagerly ran to his post owl and checked her for the letter.   
  
Hedwig looked a bit ruffled and jumpy when he reached for the parchment. She jumped and bit him hard enough to draw blood.   
  
"Hedwig! What are you doing?" Harry asked in surprise, rubbing his hand. "First the Dursleys, and now you too. Give me Sirius' letter."   
  
She stilled, obviously insulted by his comment. She stuck out her leg angrily, and took off to her cage immediately after he removed the letter. Confused, Harry unrolled the parchment.   
  
It was blank.   
  
Bewildered, Harry turned on the lamp and examined it, looking for Sirius' messy scrawl. Was there some sort of enchantment on his paper? Harry turned the letter over, and almost cried out.   
  
The silhouette of the dark mark was burned on his back. Trembling, Harry sank to his knees, clutching at the parchment so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. Sirius was in trouble, or was his letter intercepted? He desperately hoped it wasn't the former. Sirius was the closest person to family that Harry had, he didn't want to lose him. He was the one person who never wanted Harry to be anymore than just himself.   
  
Harry drew a shuddering breath, watching the corners of he parchment blur in his eyes. He touched the blackened paper compulsively, but the moment his fingers brushed the scorched mark, his scar exploded with pain and his room melted around him like water, and his room was flooded with black. _  
  
  
"Look what Potter sent you."   
  
The soft whisper sent familiar shivers down his spine. He looked around for the thin, skeletal figure, but all he could see was a swirling darkness on all sides.   
  
"Wh-- what?"   
  
The voice was so tired and strained with pain that Harry almost didn't recognize it. He sounded even worse than the time he first met him in the Shrieking shack.   
  
"Sirius!" Harry wanted to shout, but when he opened his mouth, no sound came out.   
  
"He finally realized you disappeared. I wondered how long it would take him."   
  
"Leave Harry alone!"   
  
"Well, I've been waiting weeks to get the message to him. Whose else who can take the letter through the barrier than Potter's own owl? Isn't that right, Black?"   
  
"No..."   
  
"No?"   
  
There was no reply.   
  
"That's too bad, isn't it?"   
  
Silence. And then the air was filled with agonized screams. Harry cried out, trying to cover his ears, but Sirius' voice, filled with pain, seemed to resonate within his head.   
  
"No!" Harry wanted to say. "Stop, please!"   
  
The screams stopped abruptly, only Sirius' unsteady gasps could be heard. He coughed raspily, sounding tired and ill.   
  
"…no…"   
  
_  
The voices suddenly melted away, leaving Harry, slumped against the floor with the note in his hands, and a lingering feeling of pain and helplessness. He had been dreaming about Sirius all along, but Harry had been too stupid to realize or was too afraid to think about them. How long had he been having those dreams? Harry wondered with a sinking heart. Had Sirius really been captured that long? He only experienced Voldermort's wrath for a few minutes, and that had been enough to give him nightmares for weeks. But to endure it for days without end… Harry shuddered, guilt feeling his stomach. It was all his fault. Voldermort wouldn't have cared about Sirius if it wasn't for him. He had been through so much already.   
  
Harry wiped his eyes angrily, crumpling the note. He couldn't sit there, he had to do something. He couldn't let someone else die because of him, like Cedric. Like his parents. He pushed aside his old bed and pulled his truck out from underneath it. Hedwig hooted angrily from her perch, sensing her master's distress, but Harry ignored the sound. He carefully took out the invisibility cloak and his Firebolt, his hand lingering on the broomstick. Harry bitterly recalled third year, where Sirius had sent it as a Christmas present. He was always doing something to help Harry, and Harry did nothing but give him grief and worry. But tonight, he was going to help Sirius in return.   
  
Harry pocketed his wand, wondering how many spells it would take before Fudge expelled him. Harry was surprised that he didn't care. As long as Sirius was alive, he could endure the Dursleys' jeering.   
  
Going after Sirius was probably the stupidest thing he did ever since a long time, but he couldn't wait.   
  
"Hedwig," Harry whispered as he opened the window. "Fly back to Sirius, okay? Come on, girl!"   
  
His post owl flapped her wings angrily and flew to the other side of the room.   
  
"Hedwig! Please, I have to see him!" Harry begged, digging out some owl treats.   
  
She fluffed her feathers and scowled at him, almost chiding him for thinking that she was so easily swayed. Harry felt a sense of desperation as he watched her. Sighing, he mounted his broom and picked up his cloak, feeling slightly betrayed. True, Hedwig probably had more common sense than he, but she wasn't losing someone important!   
  
At the sight of her master taking off without her, Hedwig seemed to finally relent. She flew out the window, landing on a lamp post and waiting for Harry to follow. Harry threw on the cloak, making sure his entire broom was covered, and pushed off from the floor. The familiar exhilaration of flying returned as he felt the wind toss his hair and brush his arms, but the feeling of freedom and happiness was lost.   
  
He was doing something extremely stupid, but he didn't care.   
  
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
a tad short, combined my first two story ideas into one, makes everything so much easier. Its too long to be a prologue but too short to be a chapter. Oh well.   
  
Review review review! I think I'm one of those cursed writers who never get any reviews no matter how much I write. I hope it doesn't reflect my writing quality, ack ack ack.   
  
Yes! Finals are over and I flunked! *sobs* too late to study now though, it seems that everyone's finals are over about the same time because the stories suddenly peaked last night. Weird. Oh well, I'm just rambling now. I don't think anyone actually reads the author's notes, do they?   
  
  
  



	2. cheating fear

Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.   
  
a/n see bottom. Thanks for all those great reviews!   
  
Abbsiegail - Sirius is one of my favorite characters! I can't seem to kill him… *grin*   
  
Vmr - thanks!   
  
*gasp* Firefairy, you put Cheating Death on your favorite stories list and me as a favorite author? Thanks! I'm so flattered! Wow….   
  
Jenny - humm… I hate to tell you this, but I'm a reaaaally really inconsistent writer. If I have my muse, I could write out a whole story is less than a week, but if not, it'll probably take ears to finish, if ever… *hides* I'll try though!   
  
Angel - thanks!   
  
  
**Cheating Death**  
By neutral   
  
  
Chapter two - cheating fear   
  
  
Flying after an owl after sun down on a broom after having several sleepless nights was a very bad idea, but unfortunately, Harry didn't realize this until after he was already trying it. He could barely keep his eyes open as followed the white form of Hedwig, cutting through the air gracefully. She was rapidly becoming a fuzzy blur in the sky. He was lucky his owl was white and not black or brown, otherwise, he would be in serious trouble.   
  
He should be worried. He should be scared, if not for himself, at least for Sirius. But after almost an entire night of flying, any emotions were gradually being replaced by a heavy numbness. The wind was soothing, brushing his face like hands. All Harry wanted to do was close his eyes for and rest. He leaned forward a bit, and the sky tilted at a wild angle.   
  
Harry snapped back into focus when he felt the invisibility cloak slip off. With a muffled cry, Harry realized he was rapidly falling; the ground was catching up with him as it prepared to swallow him whole. He gripped his Firebolt, seeker senses kicking in, and pulled up sharply. His toes brushed the ground as he straightened, Hedwig hooting loudly beside him. He shivered from the too-close call.   
  
He had to rest. How would he face Voldermort if he could barely even keep his eyes open?   
  
Harry stumbled when he got off the Firebolt. His legs were shaking from the stress, and his hands were cold and numb. He could barely close it into a fist when he picked up the invisibility cloak. Harry sighed, sinking to the ground, feeling like he would never get back up. Hedwig flew to his shoulder and nipped his ear affectionately.   
  
"Are we there yet, girl?" Harry asked softly.   
  
Hedwig ruffled her feathers proudly, flapping her wings. She flew in front of him again, and landed on….   
  
A tombstone.   
  
Harry felt his stomach twist. All the stress and weariness was forgotten as he straightened and looked ahead of him. Crosses, blocks, stones of all shape and sizes littered the graveyard, and a thin mist floated above the moist soil. Small, garbed trees were planted sparsely through the grounds. Harry shivered violently. He recognized this place. This was the place he landed right after the Triwizard Tournament.   
  
The place where Cedric died.   
  
Harry grinned bitterly. How symbolic. How predictable. Voldermort was rather simple minded.   
  
Hedwig flew back to him and cocked her head as she watched him, looking slightly uneasy. The stupidity of his actions suddenly dawned on him, and Harry realized he should have at least contacted Dumbledore or Lupin about his rather compulsive decision.   
  
Sighing, Harry fumbled around for a scrap of paper, but all he uncovered was the crumpled piece of parchment with the dark mark burned on the back. He found a cheap fountain pen in one of his baggy pockets, and scribbled quickly.   
_  
  
Sirius is in trouble. Voldermort has him.   
_  
  
Harry frowned, wondering if he should drag Dumbledore into this. He might be a strong wizard, but he was old and obviously at a disadvantage. If anything should happen to his headmaster, Harry would never forgive himself. Nor would anyone else, for that matter. Finally, he chose on a safer alternative.   
  
_  
He's at the graveyard where Cedric died.   
  
Harry.   
  
_  
That wouldn't give away Harry's obviously stupid decision, he decided. Dumbledore would be immensely worried the moment he saw the dark mark burned on the back, so he added:   
  
_  
Ps. I got this paper back after I tried to write to him. Do you think there are any enchantments on this?   
  
_  
Feeling slightly remorseful, he tied the letter to Hedwig and sent her off again.   
  
"Sorry girl, I know you're tired, but I promise you can rest after this, okay?" Harry whispered. Hedwig pecked him lightly, probably a bit guilty from the bleeding bite she gave him several hours ago.   
  
He watched the snowy owl fly off, his heart sinking with her. Harry just sent away his last companion, and from this point on, he was alone. The hopelessness of his situation suddenly struck him full force, and Harry felt the desperation mirroring the fear he felt during the third task. Harry knew he was in an awkward position; there was no mother to save him, no portkey to whisk him away. He was walking into a trap of an almost certain death, and frankly, he was afraid.   
  
What made him so special anyway? He asked himself angrily. He was only famous because he blocked the killing curse, and that was his mother's doing. His fame had all landed on the wrong shoulders, and Voldermort, by killing him, would gain nothing but petty satisfaction. There was no point with all the protections Dumbledore placed on him. Harry wasn't important. He did nothing but place others in danger, and maybe, once Voldermort had him, he might leave his friends alone. He certainly wasn't worth it. Ron and Hermione had families who cared for them. They would be devastated to lose their children. Sirius was an important contributor to Dumbledore's order. It was Harry who was the sore thumb. He always got in the way.   
  
Harry grinded his teeth together in determination. He was useless! He repeated over and over, trying to keep his conviction. Drawing deep, steadily breaths, Harry stood. He wondered for a moment if he should wear his invisibility cloak, but decided quickly against it. There were so many enchantments here that it wouldn't make a difference. Voldermort was probably prepared for him the moment he sent away the letter.   
  
It was pointless to run in and try to bring Sirius with him when he escaped. He wouldn't succeed, there was hardly any doubt about that. There was one way… only one way.   
  
He folded away the cloak, tucking it with his Firebolt under a thorny brush. Sirius would need it when he escaped, he was still a convict. Taking a deep breath, he ran.   
  
Harry ran until he stood in the very center of the graveyard, feeling the familiar tingle of magic as he brushed past several tombstones. The alarms in his head told him he probably set off several hundred protection wards, but then, just to add to the noise, he took out his wand and filled the sky with red and gold sparks. He was being stupid and suicidal, but Harry never had any hope in the first place.   
  
Almost instantly, there was a small pop behind him. Harry whirled around, pointing his wand at the intruder.   
  
"What are you doing here?" a familiar voice hissed.   
  
Harry almost dropped his wand in surprise. "Professor Snape?!"   
  
"Always wanted to make your entrance with a bang, Potter?" his potions teacher continued angrily. "I thought you were smarter than this! Do you want to die?"   
  
If Harry hadn't known Snape's absolute disgust of anything potter, he would have thought his professor was concerned. But then it dawned on him: Dumbledore's request, Snape's past history. A spy!   
  
"You knew, didn't you?" Harry hissed back, suddenly angry. "You knew Sirius was here, and you didn't tell Dumbledore! I know you hate each other, but isn't killing him for some petty rivalry going too far?"   
  
Snape's entire demeanor faltered for a moment, before his lean form straightened haughtily. "Do you think any of us could return after Black was caught? I haven't been able to contact anyone for weeks! Now get out of here!"   
  
"What?" Harry asked, bewildered.   
  
"Are you so dim? Get out of here before the others arrive!"   
  
"No! You'll probably be killed." Harry whispered angrily. His words surprised both of them, and for a moment, Harry wondered why he would even care. Snape had hated him for years.   
  
Snape was stunned into silence, he seemed at a loss for words. Harry swallowed, feeling a bit of his fear return. "I wasn't planning to leave here alive, anyway," he said quietly, hoping that his teacher couldn't hear.   
  
But he did. Snape's body shook with suppressed anger. "You… you fool! Why does Albus even try to protect you? You're practically suicidal! Get out of here before I drag you!" Snape growled, grabbing his shoulder roughly and pushing him away.   
  
Under the bony fingers, Harry's shoulder burst with a searing pain. He cried out and pulled away, clutching at the old bruise from Dudley's Smeltings stick. His scream wasn't loud, but the noise seemed to alert the rest. Within seconds, the graveyard was filled with black cloaked figures.   
  
"Severus," said one closest to him. "What's taking you so long? Master's getting angry. Who….?" he stopped when his eyes alighted on Harry, pale and trembling, holding his arm protectively. "Well done, Severus. Tried to take your anger out on him already?"   
  
Snape didn't reply, and Harry thought if he could see his face, his potions master would probably be angry and scared, and scheming for a possible escape route. Harry swallowed, fingering his wand hungrily.   
  
"Where's Sirius?" he asked. Thankfully, his voice didn't betray the fear that he felt. It rang across the graveyard, loud and clear. The figures shifted almost nervously.   
  
"Alive," said another, close to his ear.   
  
Harry seethed with anger, recognizing the voice of Lucius Mafloy. He spun around to face him, but before he could turn, cold fingers dug into his shoulder, drawing a scream from his lips. Harry pushed away angrily, feeling the warm tickling of blood seep into his shirt. He drew his wand, intent on making him pay, when another hand caught it.   
  
"Enough. Lets go," said Snape, pulling Harry away roughly.   
  
There was a murmur of agreement in the group. Snape turned and walked away quickly, but Harry hung back. He knew, if Snape found the opportunity, he would flee with him and get him to a safe place. But that would jeopardize Sirius' life and Snape's position as a spy. Snape seemed to understand Harry's thoughts, because his pace soon slowed. He clutched Harry's wrist tightly and pulled him close whenever another glanced his way almost protectively. To the other Death Eaters, Severus might appear to be stamping Harry as his effort for praise from his master, but Harry realized much of it was concern.   
  
His potions teacher was rapidly appearing to him in a different light. Harry wondered if that meant Snape would be nicer to Gryffindors, but that, he highly doubted.   
  
As the group marched slowly on, Harry began to notice a large, three story house that looked neglected from disuse. The windows were broken, and the paint was peeling; it looked like the perfect muggles' version of a haunted house. Just as he was about to look around for the rest of the village, a hot, branding pain escaped from his scar. Harry cried out as his legs buckled beneath him, clutching his scar. The fire was white hot, and it blinded him and slit his head from the inside. Distantly, he heard a gasp of surprise, and bony arms catch him as he fell. Around him were shouts of laughter, and Harry flushed in humiliation. He grinded his teeth, trying to get the pain back into control. He scrambled back to his feet unsteadily, but Snape still had to catch him as he swayed sharply in a particular direction. He let himself be half dragged, half carried the rest of the way to the house.   
  
Harry couldn't quite remember the direction through the corridors, or the number of doors that he passed. He spent the majority of the time with his eyes closed, willing the pain to go away and trying to get some well deserved rest. Snape grunted in protest once in a while as he dragged Harry's dead weight along with him in the hallway, arranging it so that it looked like he was hauling the boy against his will. Harry was still rather light, a bit too light for his age and size, but he was still exhausted when he reached his master's throne room (the power-hungry bastard, he thought).   
  
Voldermort was already waiting for him.   
  
Harry snapped back into focus when he was dropped unceremoniously onto the cold floor. From the pain in his head, he knew immediately what was going on. With a sinking heart, he looked up.   
  
Voldermort's amused red eyes watched him hungrily. Swallowing, Harry stood up shakily, half blinded by the pain in his scar.   
  
"My, my," he whispered, sounding incredibly gratified. "You really did think you could rescue Black by yourself?"   
  
"No," Harry whispered, mimicking his tone and fixing him with his eyes unwaveringly. His stomach seemed to be battling itself, tossing and turning in his body. Harry desperately hoped his face didn't betray him.   
  
"No?" Voldermort sounded only mildly surprised.   
  
"No, I'm here to trade myself for Sirius."   
  
Around him, the Death Eaters rustled in disbelief, but Harry focused only on Voldermort. He tried to distract himself from the pain by trying to imagine his wand running through one of his beady red eyes, and Tom howling in pain and anger.   
  
Voldermort smiled widely with thin lips. "Really." He waved his hand without turning away from Harry's eyes. "Bring him in."   
  
A small door on the side was flung open. They were already waiting, Harry realized, trying to decide whether he should be worried or not. They knew he was coming all along. But all thoughts faded from his mind when he noticed the limp figure that was dumped carelessly on the floor.   
  
Sirius' hair, although previously trimmed, hung in matted strands across his face. His arms were thin, covered with so many bruises that it was hard to tell what color his skin was. His robes were tattered and caked with something that looked suspiciously like dried blood, and his form was so skinny that it made his Akzakan body look fat. Harry bit back tears, but couldn't help the cry of anger from escaping. At his voice, Sirius stirred and lifted his head painfully.   
  
"Harry?" he whispered, his voice hoarse from ill use. He looked up, squinting as he tried to focus.   
  
Harry ran forward at his name, dimly noticing the arms that tried to stop him. He dodged them all, and fell to his knees beside his godfather, choking back sobs.   
  
"What have they done?" he asked softly, gently turning him over and resting Sirius' head against his lap. "I can't believe… Oh god, I'm so sorry!"   
  
"Harry?" Sirius' voice was suddenly clear as he focused on the boy above him. "What are you doing here?"   
  
He struggled to sit, but Harry shoved him down quickly. "I had to come. Listen Sirius, at the eastern edge of the graveyard, right where there are some trees, I've hidden the invisibility cloak and the Firebolt underneath a thorny bush. Do you think you can still fly?"   
  
"What are you talking about?" Sirius looked alarmed. "What are you planning, Harry?"   
  
But Harry wasn't listening. He turned, holding Sirius' hand reassuringly, and looked to Voldermort for a response. The man watched him with an amused smile, looking much calmer than he could remember.   
  
"Voldermort, do you agree with my request?"   
  
Sirius stiffened in shock. "Harry, what are you talking about?"   
  
Harry's hand tightened around his for an instant, and he looked down at Sirius with an apologetic smile.   
  
"Of course, it was my plan all along," Voldermort said calmly. "That is, if Black agrees. He has five minutes."   
  
"Ten!" Harry said quickly, realizing that it would probably take a lot longer to convince Sirius to leave him to die.   
  
Voldermort waved it aside carelessly, looking bored and uninterested.   
  
"Agrees to what?" Sirius asked, sitting up sharply. He resisted Harry's demands to force him back down and stared at him angrily.   
  
"Sirius, you better go." Harry said quickly. "They're going to let you. You need to get medical aid quickly, you look pretty hurt. Can you fly?"   
  
Sirius swallowed, rather embarrassed by the concern Harry was showing him. "I'm alright. But if I'm going, you're coming with me."   
  
Harry didn't respond, unsure of what to say. The chances of Sirius leaving willingly was looking rather distant. "How long have you been here?" Harry finally asked, face somber as he looked at Sirius' battered face.   
  
"Around one or two weeks, I'm not exactly sure," he mumbled. Catching the look of horror on Harry's face, he quickly added, "No, they've been ignoring me until a few days ago."   
  
The look of horror was rapidly replaced by guilt "My letter! Oh god, I'm so sorry. If I had known…"   
  
"You didn't," Sirius said sharply.   
  
Harry nodded, but didn't look very convinced. He knew arguing who owned the fault was a rather pointless debate. Instead, in examined Sirius' arm, where a particularly nasty cut could be seen through his tattered robes, swollen and still bleeding. Blinking away tears,, Harry tore the sleeve of his oversized shirt. Sirius looked at his questioningly, but his expression soon turned into a grimace of pain as Harry bandaged his arm. Harry was being careful, but the movement teased all the bruises and it was impossible to avoid them.   
  
"Sorry," Harry whispered. "it'll have to do for now. Do you think you can still fly?"   
  
The realization suddenly dawned on him, falling like a ton of bricks into his stomach. "Harry, tell me you didn't…" Sirius swallowed, mouth dry. "… trade yourself for me."   
  
"Sirius…"   
  
"You fool! What were you thinking? Do you want to die?" Sirius almost yelled, his fear for his godson's life rapidly turning into anger.   
  
Harry would have laughed at the reminiscent of Snape's words, but the gravity of the situation took any humor out of it. "It's too late," he said instead. "Tell Ron and Hermione I'm sorry. Say hi to Professor Lupin for me, and tell Dumbledore that it wasn't his fault. All my stuff is under a lose floorboard in the smallest bedroom."   
  
Harry paused, looking at Sirius' almost guilty expression, and gave him a timid hug, afraid that he would agitate his wounds. Sirius returned it full force, pressing Harry's face into his bony chest and shaking with quiet sobs. "Don't do this, Harry. You're going to make me feel like I should have died."   
  
"No!" Harry pulled away quickly and fixed him with a glare. "You're going to live. Hurry, get up, they're not going to give us much more time."   
  
He pulled Sirius to his feet, stumbling when the taller man leaned against him. But Sirius was intent on staying.   
  
"Harry, do you have any idea what you're doing?" he asked angrily, pulling away from the boy and almost falling in the process. Harry steadied him quickly, but refused to meet his eyes.   
  
"Yes! Do you think Voldermort'll let me go? Leave, Sirius! It's better one than the both of us!" Harry urged.   
  
"Do you really think I'd leave you alone?"   
  
"Yes, you have to. I faced him three times alone, and I can do it again!"   
  
"That's precisely why I'm not leaving!"   
  
Harry's expression flattered for a moment, and confusion filtered into his eyes. But it vanished in an instant, and he began dragging Sirius to the door. Although his godfather was almost a foot taller, the past few days had drained him, and Sirius could barely struggle against a skinny fourteen year-old.   
  
"You'd do the same for me, you know it," Harry whispered.   
  
"I'm your godfather, a parental figure, Harry. Parents are suppose to die for their children, not the other way around!"   
  
Harry stilled at those words, his hands still on Sirius' arm from when he had been trying to drag him across the room. Sirius paled, realizing what those words must have meant. But Harry shook his head, looking more determined than ever.   
  
"I've lost too many people like that, and I'm not going to lose another!" Harry said firmly. Then his face softened, looking almost pleading. "Please Sirius, you can't die. Leave, I'm begging you."   
  
Sirius felt his eyes watering under Harry's gaze, realizing for the first time, how mature Harry had become without his guidance. He never really need him, it was the other way around. Sirius always thought of Harry as a miniature James, but they were so different in their personalities. Harry was never a replacement, and could never be. He was just Harry, and for some reason, it made him want to protect him more than ever before.   
  
Sighing, Sirius enveloped him into a tight hug; Harry only returned it hesitantly, obviously afraid that he would cause him pain by touching him. He rested his head against the unruly mop of hair, wishing that he could hide him from the burden on his shoulders, away from the pain and frustration that he didn't deserve. And for a moment, all the dark cloaked figures who wanted his guts spilled on the floor faded; it was just him and his godson, free from all the worries of the world. An ex-convict and a wronged boy, who always seemed to have the knack for attracting trouble, dangerous, life threatening troubles.   
  
Reluctantly, Sirius pulled away, pushing some wild strands of hair from Harry's face. He grabbed his shoulders firmly, and calmly met his eyes.   
  
"No."   
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
Apparently, the original plan for this chapter turned out waaaaay too long. Either that, I made one scene waaaay too long. This chapter was suppose to end after a battle (surprise surprise), but instead, I had to cut it more than halfway. Even then, this one was more than twice as long as chapter one. Damn. Looks like my hopes for following the original story plan is not working. Suggestions, anyone?   
  
Review review review!! I write faster that way, really I do.   
  
  
  



	3. cheating fate

Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.   
  
a/n see bottom.   
  
**Cheating Death**  
By neutral   
  
  
  
Chapter three - cheating fate   
  
  
  
The pain, fear, and disbelief that filtered across Harry's face made Sirius wish he had looked away. Harry's absolute disregard for his own life was shocking. Somewhere along their godfather - godson relationship, Harry suddenly turned and tried to protect him; which, Sirius thought, was absolutely ridiculous and left a biting sense of guilt. He didn't deserve help, especially not from Harry. He was the one who took away his parents in the first place.   
  
"Sirius, you can't…" Harry whispered, his voice shaking for the first time.   
  
Sirius smiled reassuringly, drawing Harry back into another hug. But the cold voice took any warmth out of the gesture.   
  
"This is all very touching, but your time is up. What do you say, Black?"   
  
Harry struggled to pull away, obviously trying to answer in his place, but Sirius crushed him against his robes and muffled his words.   
  
"I'm staying."   
  
There was a murmur of voices from the Death Eaters, but Voldermort looked even more amused. Harry fell limp at the decision, and was now clutching at Sirius' robes, shaking with silent sobs. Sirius rubbed his back soothingly, but that only seemed to aggravate the boy more.   
  
"Really?" Voldermort grinned. "How… predictable. I'm rather disappointed." He waved his hand, twirling his wand idly. "Oh well, for the matter at hand. Potter, stop with your bawling and face me."   
  
Sirius instinctively pulled Harry closer, but he resisted. Suddenly, hands were on him, tearing him away.   
  
"No!" he cried, struggling. But the past few weeks left him drained, his limbs were sluggish and weak. Desperately, he reached out for Harry's hand, a but hurt when Harry didn't respond. Instead, Harry turned to him calmly and mouthed   
  
'Don't worry.'   
  
Sirius was amazed at the change. One minute, he was crying into his shirt, and the next, his eyes were hard and cold, without traces of any tears.   
  
  
  
Harry didn't feel as strong as he looked. Rather, he felt a bit sick, even worse than the time he walked into the chamber of secrets knowing that in any corner was a giant snake waiting to poison him or swallow him whole. He forced himself to meet Voldermort's gaze unflinchingly; the pain in the scar had become so persistent that he could almost ignore it.   
  
"Are we going to duel?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer. Voldermort was too smart to risk prior incantum again, and he wouldn't risk putting himself at a disadvantage by changing wands. Either way, Harry wouldn't be able to keep his wand, and when Sirius was speaking to Voldermort, he slipped his it into one of Sirius' pockets. Hopefully, Sirius would find it and use it to leave when the opportunity came up, but knowing him, that was next to impossible.   
  
"No," Voldermort smiled, looking amazingly calm. Harry wondered if he had finally learned to bid his time, unlike the burst of hatred and anger at the third task only a month and a half ago.   
  
"I'm just going to kill you."   
  
Harry's stomach fell. Beside him, Sirius made a sound of protest, but was instantly silenced when a hand covered his mouth. For a moment, Harry felt a flash of fear, but he soon recognized Snape's bony fingers. It was better for Sirius to be silent, Harry decided, than to have him yelling out in protest and being punished by Voldermort.   
  
That distraction was enough time for Voldermort to shout the disarming curse. Harry watched in satisfaction as the spell hit him and produced no reaction.   
  
"What?" Voldermort looked furious, his calm demeanor was completely forgotten. "You don't have a wand?"   
  
One of the cloaked figures stood forward quickly. "My lord, he had his wand in the graveyard."   
  
There was a murmur of agreement.   
  
Harry shifted, a sense of desperation beginning to come as he realized just how many cloaked figures there were. He was unarmed in a place full of enemies, facing a person he was going to kill him without a fight. The sense of hopelessness made him rash, and as the cloaked men were musing over what happened to Harry's wand, he flung himself at the nearest Death Eater intent on stealing his weapon.   
  
There was an instant outcry, but no one came forward to help. Harry barely noticed this, only surprised that the man he attacked didn't give much of a fight. Recognition suddenly hit him when he noticed the silver hand.   
  
"Pettigrew!" Harry shouted angrily.   
  
The wand was forgotten as Harry tried to land some blows on his face. The watery eyed man pushed him away and practically ran to the other side of the room, his wand left rolling on the floor. Harry picked up the unfamiliar weapon, and was about to curse some of the men holding Sirius, when something struck his back and knocked him to the floor.   
  
Instantly, his veins burst with pain. Hot blades seemed to fill his blood, and his entire body felt like somebody had thrown boiling water on his skin. Harry screamed, unable to hold it back, and he could feel himself writhing on the ground. As abruptly as the curse came, it stopped. Harry lay panting on the cold floor, blinking against the black spots, before he noticed the laughter in the room. Angrily, he dragged himself to his feet and glared.   
  
"Got yourself a wand?" Voldermort sneered. "I doubt that would do you any good."   
  
"Stufey!" Harry shouted. The wand trembled beneath his hand, almost as if it was afraid of him. The spell was sluggish and slow, nothing like the reaction time of his own wand.   
  
Voldermort only raised his eyebrow, but his expression of smugness soon changed when a body fell behind him. One of the cloaked figures fell face down to the stone floor, and his enemy frowned, obviously trying to decide whether that was on purpose or not.   
  
Harry threw another stunning curse at the direction of a Death Eater who came a bit too close. Harry had been aiming to get rid of as many Death Eaters as possible, and not actually attacking Voldermort right off. His minions were his strength; without them Tom Riddle was nothing but an orphan with a little too much anger.   
  
Harry landed another well aimed jelly-leg hex and a body-binding curse before Voldermort realized what he was doing. For the brief moment when he looked thorn whether to take time counter-cursing his minions or attacking the boy. Harry took the opportunity and shouted the first thing that came to his mind.   
  
"_Riddikulus_!"   
  
It was rather stupid, Harry realized as soon as he said it. The curse was for boggarts, and not humans. He wouldn't be surprised if there was no reaction. There was a blinding flash and a puff of smoke as all the Death Eaters shrieked in fear. Harry held his breath, wondering what would meet his eyes.   
  
The fog cleared, and a tall teenager with icy brown eyes and smooth brown hair stared back at him in horror.   
  
"Tom Riddle!" Harry gasped. He hadn't realized it would work, or that he would consider Voldermort's most insulting form his youth. Frankly, if he had known, he would of imagined Voldermort headless or something to that effect.   
  
All those thoughts were lost when Riddle turned his gaze on him. Harry could feel his insides churning under his furious stare.   
  
"_Avada Kedeva_!" he screamed, pointing his wand.   
  
Harry ducked, and felt a hot fire past above him. He sprang forward, rapidly deciding that staying in one place was not a good idea.   
  
"_Avada Kedeva! Avada Kedeva! Avada Kedeva!_"   
  
By some miracle, Harry managed to dodge them all. But the third passed disturbingly close to his arm, and he could almost feel it as it passed. A figure slumped forward, and Harry barely managed to get out of the way when he fell.   
  
"Hex him! Stun him! Don't just stand there, you fools!"   
  
Harry's eyes widened in horror when all the cloaked figures jumped into action, wand raised. He certainly had no chance anymore. He ducked a couple stunning spells, streaking the ceiling red, dimly aware of a few falling from the curse. He body-binded a few that were close and disarmed a some others before they were on him. Harry cried out when he felt hands grabbing him, and instinctively fought back. He heard a grunt when his leg struck something hard, and another cry of pain when jammed his elbow back. But he soon lost count of the number of arms pushing him down, and his vision was only a mass of black shapes. He kicked blindly and waved his hands around, before a sharp slap and a kick forced the breath out of his lungs. He coughed violently, but as he tried to drag in more air, another foot met his ribs, and another, and another. Soon, he lost all attempts of fighting, only covering his face protectively and drawing himself into a small ball. There were so many hands hitting him that it felt like one uniform giant, trying to crush him from above.   
  
"Enough!"   
  
The hands were instantly gone. Gasping, Harry turned and tried to pull himself into a sitting position, but every movement jabbed his ribs and sent flashes down his back. He coughed, heart sinking when he tasted blood in his mouth.   
  
He could feel rather than see Voldermort's smug smile as he approached. Harry groaned when his head throbbed with pain.   
  
"Pity," he hissed close to his ear. "I guess this is the end, isn't it?"   
  
Harry moaned again, as he tried to turn and face his enemy.   
  
"No! Stop, st ---," the voice sank to angry sounds.   
  
Harry realized, with a sinking heart, that Sirius had probably freed himself from Snape. Voldermort stood and turned from him. He's going to kill Sirius, Harry realized, stomach becoming ice. He's going to kill him to torture me.   
  
"_Expelliarmus_!" Harry whispered hoarsely, pointing the barely intact wand at Voldermort's back. The force only seemed to knock him forward slightly, and brown eyes turned to face him with an amused smile.   
  
"You actually thought that would work?" he asked, his voice young, but still with a tone of malice.   
  
Harry fumed, glaring back at his eyes with the hatred that had been building for years. With a cry, he flung himself at Riddle, taking him by surprise, and knocking him to the floor. That action was beyond stupid, but the anger made him rash. For a brief moment, Harry wanted nothing more than to plunge his wand into Riddle's eye. But before he could even raise his arms, hands pulled him back. Riddle stood, nursing a broken lip, glaring at Harry with an frostbitten gaze.   
  
"Bring Black," he shouted, not taking his eyes off Harry.   
  
Harry screamed silently, desperately praying that Voldermort wouldn't kill him right away. Maybe Sirius already found the wand in his pocket. Please, please, please… let Sirius find the wand.   
  
Sirius was hauled forward, although he seemed to be walking faster than the Death Eaters. Snape followed, a makeshift bandage on a bloody hand. Sirius probably bit him, Harry realized with dry humor. He must have tasted awful.   
  
"You okay, Harry?" Sirius asked quietly, watching him with concern.   
  
Voldermort laughed, a much different laugh, but it still sent shivers down his spine. "It won't matter in a few minutes," Sirius' eyes instantly became hard and cold, and Harry could barely recognize him. "You're going to wish you left, Black."   
  
Harry blinked in confusion, wondering what he was planning, but his heart sank when Riddle raised his wand.   
  
"_Imperio_."   
  
Instantly, Sirius slumped forward, eyes glazed and empty. He stood, staring at the floor for a few seconds, before he looked up. His movements were slow and jerky, like some poorly mastered puppeteer. He raised his hand, and for a moment, Harry wondered what Voldermort was making him do.   
  
Slap!   
  
Stunned, Harry couldn't even gasp. His cheek stung and burned. Instinctively, he brought his hand to touch it, staring at Sirius in disbelief.   
  
Another blow sent him sprawling on the floor. Harry cried out in pain when his ribs were jostled. There was blood rushing in streams from his mouth; the second blow had jabbed his jaw into his tongue. Before he could even pull himself up, Sirius was on him again, twisting his arm back at an awkward angle.   
  
"No!" Harry shouted, trying to turn his head. "Fight it, Sirius! I know you can. Don't listen to him!"   
  
There was a sickening crack, and Harry screamed. It was like hot iron, pressed against his skin, and flames licking at his right arm. Tears rushed to his eyes from the pain. Dimly, he noticed the odd twist of his arm above the elbow. Harry fell to the floor limply when Sirius finally let go, too tired and drained to move. For a moment, he thought Voldermort had released the curse, but that hope soon sank. A foot kicked him over, and he bit his lip to keep from crying out. He blinked back tears, wondering what Sirius was doing.   
  
Warm hands closed like a clamp on his throat. Gasping, Harry's eyes shot open. He looked at the arms choking him in disbelief, and then at Sirius' glazed and deadened eyes. For a moment, they flickered, and then tears were running down his face.   
  
_He's too tired to fight it_, Harry realized. _But he must feel so guilty right now. Killing me would shatter him_.   
  
His vision was starting to swim, and Sirius' tear streaked face blurred. Harry could feel Sirius' hands trembling, but the clamp around his throat didn't loosen.   
  
"It's not your fault," Harry wanted to say, but only a muffled cough came out.   
  
Slowly, he reached up and to touch Sirius' face, but his entire body felt like lead. His hand was shaking violently, and he could barely see it in front of his eyes. He could feel his fingers touching moist skin, and grinned as reassuringly as he could.   
  
_It's not your fault_, he repeated inside his head. _I forgive you_.   
  
There was a strangled gasp, and the grip on his neck instantly slacked. Harry coughed weakly as air flooded back into his lungs, and the room slowly became brighter. Distantly, he could feel himself be picked up and enveloped in a warm embrace, and a sound of crying close to his ear.   
  
"Oh god, Harry, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," it whispered over and over again.   
  
"It's not your fault," Harry managed to choke out between gasps.   
  
The hold tightened, and Harry winced when an arm brushed the broken limb. Sirius immediately loosened his grip, nesting Harry's head under his chin. He avoided his eyes, afraid to accept the forgiveness that Harry seemed so willing to give.   
  
"Interesting," said a cold voice behind him. "Looks like Black can break it too, although," Riddle grinned at Sirius as he turned to face him with a fiery glare. "Potter would have broken it seconds after it was put on him. Disappointing, to say the least."   
  
Sirius' anger flattered for a moment as he turned back to look at his godson. Harry leaned against him limply, still gasping for air, his finger prints livid against his neck. Sirius swallowed, guilt flooding him and bringing tears back to his eyes. He had always wanted to protect him, but he was the one that nearly killed him! Even Harry was stronger than him. Harry seemed to know what he was thinking, because he looked up quickly and squeezed his hand reassuringly. That seemed to double his guilt.   
  
Suddenly, Harry convulsed and twisted in his gasp, a scream escaping from his lips. Sirius shouted out in alarm, trying to hold him still, when realization dawned on him. He spun around, noticing Voldermort's smug smile. The Cruicatus curse, Sirius realized.   
  
"No!" he shouted angrily, holding Harry against him and trying to put him between the curse. "He can't take much more! He'll die."   
  
Harry's screams stopped abruptly and he sank limply against Sirius again, gasping and coughing. Sirius noted in alarm the amount of blood on his face.   
  
"Perhaps that was the idea," Voldermort sneered behind him. "Or maybe, you'll go first, Black?"   
  
Harry grunted in protest, but was too tired to speak. Sirius nodded, looking at Riddle firmly. He couldn't let Harry die, but the chances of him surviving was already rather slim. His fault, all his fault! Sirius wiped some of the blood from Harry's face with the edge of his tattered robe.   
  
"I'm sorry," he whispered in Harry's ear. And then hands were pulling him away again, leaving Harry lying motionlessly against the cold floor.   
  
"Are you watching, Potter?" Voldermort asked, waiting for Harry to look up. Sirius was about to tell him not to, when a foot kicked his side and he cried out.   
  
Harry's head snapped up in an instant, fear written on his face.   
  
"_Ava_--"   
  
Sirius' heart sank. This was the end.   
  
"NO!"   
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
Voldermort seems way too nice. Sirius seems a bit less aggressive than he usually would be, although, he was tortured for two weeks, so I guess he gets some slack. but... the characterizations aren't that great.   
  
A cliffe, I'm evil aren't I? Actually, this chapter ended where everything was resolved, but at the resquest of my friend, I chopped it. But I shouldn't give her all the blame… *sigh* sorry, this chapter is a lot shorter than the last one. Review review review! I write faster that way.   
  
Peacock girl - thanks!   
  
Kat - yup, I love Sirius and Harry stories too. Their relationship could be developed really well.   
  
Sami - I'm working on it!   
  
Vmr - I thought so too, but Sirius is stubborn….   
  
Abbisegail - happy birthday!   
  
Gia - yup, Sirius is the type who will stick to Harry till the end. He probably wouldn't leave even under wand point. Humm…   
  
Heaven - yup, I'm trying   
  
Rita - thanks!   
  
Tilly - I'm glad you like their characterization! I don't think anyone's inherently bad… hopefully, I don't disappoint you anytime soon.   
  
Jj - thanks!   
  
Lady foxfire - nope. Harry's a good little innocent boy.   
  
Fire fairy - thanks! I hope you can't tell this one was cut off either… although…. It does end pretty abruptly… humm…   
  
MercS - yup, here's the next chapter! 


	4. cheating life

Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.   
  
a/n see bottom.   
  
  
**Cheating Death**  
By neutral   
  
  
Chapter four - cheating life   
  
  
  
Everything became a blur from that point on. Sirius couldn't even hear the rest of the curse being spoken, or feel the cold grip of the Death Eaters holding him up. He could only see Harry as he struggled to stand on shaky legs, and a determination in his eyes far beyond his years. At first, he wondered what Harry was trying to do, but everything became obvious when he rushed forward.   
  
_No… what are you doing?!_ Sirius shouted in his mind.   
  
There was a flash of green, and then a weight sank against him. The hands were gone in an instant, and Sirius fell backwards, eyes still open in shock, Harry's limp form slumped over him. The room was dead silent.   
  
For a few minutes, Sirius could only stare at the messy mop of hair, and the closed eyes. Harry looked like he was sleeping peacefully, but there was so steady rise and fall of his chest. Then, everything struck him full force.   
  
He screamed, grabbing his head and pulling at his hair, wishing that everything was just some terrible dream, and Harry would sit up and say it was all a game. But he didn't move. He couldn't feel Voldermort's gaze of hate and fear, the scene frighteningly reminiscent of the night he first died, when Harry deflected the killing curse as a result of Lily's sacrifice. He couldn't kill Sirius anymore. Around him, the air was filled with soft pops as the Death Eaters apparated away.   
  
He picked up Harry's limp body, weary of the twisted arms and cracked ribs, wrapping him in a protective embrace, and cried.   
  
He failed James and Lily again.   
  
And this time, they wouldn't forgive him.   
  
  
  
He wasn't sure how long he sat there. It could have been minutes or hours, but he didn't care. He just leaned against the cold wall, Harry's head nested against him, the pain too acute for words or tears. Sirius stared dully at the floor in front of him, rocking Harry's limp body back and forth like a small child.   
  
Impossible! It wasn't happening. This was all a bad dream… yes, a dream. Any minute now, Harry would open his eyes and tell him that he was only resting.   
  
But Harry's still chest and rapidly cooling body said otherwise. Numbly, Sirius rubbed his skin, trying to bring back some warmth.   
  
It was his fault… if he hadn't been so careless. Even if he had died, then Harry wouldn't have come for him. Or maybe…   
  
It took him several minutes, or maybe it was a few hours, he wasn't sure, to realize that he wasn't alone in the dim room. There was a soft rustling of clothes behind him. Sirius didn't turn, just continued to hold the limp form tightly.   
  
"Are you going to kill me?" Sirius asked softly, resting his forehead against Harry's unruly tangles. "I'm not going to stop you."   
  
There was a shuddering gasp, and then "Sirius… I'm…."   
  
It was a voice he'd recognize anywhere.   
  
"Wormtail," Sirius whispered, his words sounding dead and flat to even his own ears. "Are you happy? Are you satisfied?"   
  
There was no reply. Sirius grinned bitterly, still staring at the floor in front of him. He traced the cold skin of Harry's arm, wincing inwardly when he touched the unnatural bend of the limb.   
  
If it was any other time, he would have charged at Wormtail and strangled him with his bare hands. But with Harry lying lifelessly against him, he couldn't seem to find the strength. All he felt was an overwhelming sense of emptiness, like a dementor had already sucked out his soul. He could have cared less if it was Fudge staring at his exposed back.   
  
"Sirius, I'm so sorry," he said with a choked sob, his voice trembling. "I never wanted Harry dead…"   
  
"That didn't stop you from stabbing him, did it?" Sirius growled, suddenly feeling a flash of anger. "That didn't stop you from bringing back James and Lily's murder!"   
  
Sirius closed his eyes and pulled Harry closer, feeling his hair brush against his shoulder. There were slow, hesitant steps towards him, but Sirius couldn't bring himself to care. When he opened his eyes again, the figure was directly in front of him.   
  
Pettigrew began slowly, obviously scared. "Sirius, may I… see him?"   
  
Sirius looked up sharply, pulling Harry even closer. Pettigrew had taken off his mask, and Sirius was surprised to see his eyes red and swollen. But that could be from anything, he decided angrily.   
  
"Harry's already…" Sirius choked on the word, "dead. What more do you want? You've already brought him so much pain."   
  
Wormtail stumbled back as if struck, body shaking violently. He looked at Sirius with a pained expression.   
  
"I'll just leave then."   
  
He glanced at Harry, face unreadable, before his entire form shimmered and he disapparated with a pop.   
  
Sirius barely felt him go; he couldn't bring himself to care. He rocked Harry's body back and forth, and watched the floor in front of him turn from pitch black to golden brown from the sun's rays. Distantly, he could hear footsteps rapidly approaching. This was it, it was the end. He was going to be caught and given to the dementors, and frankly, he just didn't care.   
  
  
  
  
  
Snape paused at the doorway in surprise when he caught sight of Black's form, half hidden by the shadows, the grip on Harry's Firebolt and invisibility cloak tightening. Sirius was still in the exact same position, half leaning against the wall, the lifeless body of Harry leaning against him in the mockery of sleep. If it wasn't for their old rivalry, he would have thought the scene incredibly sad, but then, he never wanted either of them to die.   
  
"Black," he hissed, sounding sour. "What are you still doing here? Get out before the Ministry arrive."   
  
Sirius shifted, hugging the boy closer, if it was at all possible, but didn't respond.   
  
Snape groaned inwardly, marching across the room in four long strides. "Do I have to drag you? Get out of here!"   
  
His voice echoed off the walls sharply, but Sirius didn't even wince. For a moment, Snape considered the possibility of Sirius finally losing his sanity.   
  
"Why didn't you stop him?" Sirius finally asked.   
  
Taken by surprise, Snape took several minutes before he could answer, "Do you think I didn't try? He practically ran after the other Death Eaters when they led the way."   
  
Sirius was silent.   
  
"I'm not leaving," he said finally, his voice soft and distant.   
  
"Do you want to be known to the world as the person who killed Harry Potter?" Snape asked angrily. "Because if the Ministry catches you, then you'll really be hopeless."   
  
"I did kill Harry!" Sirius shouted, suddenly looking up.   
  
The wild glint in his eyes made Snape's usually sour expression slip in shock.   
  
"He died because of me," Sirius whispered, looking down again. "He wanted to save me… He died because I killed him!"   
  
Snape sighed in exasperation. He never liked Black, but he didn't exactly hate him either. He knew he was frighteningly loyal, to both his friends and to his enemies (although, not exactly a friendly loyalty). And after seeing Potter's pathetically stupid but brave display brought him back to a different light. He decided to try a different route.   
  
"Listen, Black. Evidently, Potter thought you were worth saving. If you sit here and mope, and waste his sacrifice when you get caught by the Ministry, forget about Potter, even I won't forgive you! Now get out of here." Snape shoved the invisibility cloak and the Firebolt in front of him.   
  
His words seemed to finally arouse Sirius a bit, and he looked up dully.   
  
"Those are Harry's. He left them outside for me to escape with. He never planned to get out of here alive, did he?" Sirius asked, his eyes empty.   
  
Snape paused, unsure of how to answer that question. Finally, he sighed. "No. He wanted you to live. You have to at least do that for him." Those words were completely uncharacteristic for him, he thought the moment they left his mouth. Sounds like something the werewolf would say.   
  
Sirius didn't seem to notice. Something flickered in his eyes, and he took the cloak and the broom with trembling hands. Snape waited until he stood up, still holding Harry in a death grip, and walked to the door.   
  
"Go to Lupin's," Snape said as he led the way outside. "Don't get lost. And leave the boy," he added, suppressing a shudder as he eyed Harry's unnaturally pale face.   
  
"I'm not leaving Harry."   
  
"Do you have any idea what'll happen if you're caught with his body?" Snape asked, looking at Sirius in exasperation.   
  
"I don't care."   
  
Snape glanced at Sirius sharply, but decided against another snide remark. He watched Sirius pull on the cloak awkwardly, never loosening his hold on the Potter boy. The two disappeared with a watery shimmer, followed by the broom. The suddenly breeze told of their departure, and Snape sighed, his entire body sagging.   
  
The Potter boy was dead. Dead for an idiot like Black! The stupid, stupid fool.   
  
He rubbed his eyes wearily and turned away. Now, to break the news to Dumbledore. Snape shuddered, dreading the headmaster's reaction.   
  
  
  
  
  
Remus jerked awake, spilling his cold coffee over the table and staining the cloth. He glanced at the clock blearily, noting the time. 10:37. He yawned, wincing when his back cracked in protest. He had been sleeping at odd hours and on various cold surfaces ever since Sirius vanished two weeks ago, and no amount of tracking could seem to trace him. He dreaded what would happen to Sirius; he was the only friend he had left. If the ministry found him, he would be killed. If Voldermort caught him, he would be killed. He was caught against a dead end with no escape route.   
  
Loud bangs echoed down the hall. Remus frowned, wondering who would visit him. He had very few unannounced visitors.   
  
He nearly fell in shock when he opened the door. Sirius blinked back at him, a broom and a shimmering cloak in one hand and a bundle of bloody robes in another, looking more haggard and thin than he could remember. His eyes were empty and haunted; he swayed slightly on his feet.   
  
"Sirius!" Remus choked out, both relieved and bewildered. "How…?"   
  
Sirius didn't answer, and the paleness of his friend's face told Remus he wasn't going to stay standing for much longer. He reached out and helped his friend inside quickly, wincing when he noticed the bruises on his arms. The broom suddenly caught his attention.   
  
"Padfoot, isn't that Harry's broom? And his invisibility cloak!" Remus asked, glancing at his friend in confusion. "Why do you have them?"   
  
At those words, Sirius seemed to break down completely. He sagged against Remus, who stumbled under the weight.   
  
"It was my fault, Moony. I killed him!" he said with a strained sob.   
  
Startled, Remus hauled him to the sofa and pulled away, looking into his friend's face questioningly.   
  
"Sirius, what are you…?" he broke off sharply when he noticed strands of dark brown hair peaking out from under the bundle of robes. He reached out and pulled the cloth aside, gasping at the sight.   
  
Harry, ghastly pale, leaned against Sirius lifelessly. Livid bruises were etched in his skin, a hand print on his cheek, finger marks on his neck, and dried blood caking his chin. Remus tilted his head, trying to get a better look at the cut, when he realized Harry's skin was icy cold.   
  
"No…" he choked out, feeling for a pulse. There was none. He swallowed, eyes going wide with disbelief.   
  
_Impossible! It wasn't happening. How could Harry be dead? He was so well protected._   
  
He looked at Sirius, hands trembling. "How? What happened? Sirius?"   
  
But Sirius didn't seem to be listening. He pulled Harry's limp form into a tight embrace, body racked with sobs. Remus backed away, sitting heavily in a chair. His emotions were rapidly becoming numb, and memories whirled in his head. His third year with Harry, watching him at the quittich game, seeing Harry summon the patronus. He just seemed so alive…   
  
He didn't noticed the fire turn green, and nor did he see the three figures tumble out. He was too lost in his own thoughts, it wasn't until the voice repeated his name a third time that he snapped back into reality.   
  
"Albus?" he whispered weakly, still not turning. "How did this happen?"   
  
At first, the headmaster didn't reply. He only approached the sofa slowly, looking old and feeble again. Dumbledore watched at Sirius with an unreadable expression, then brushed his fingers through Harry's hair, eyes softening and the twinkle gone.   
  
Finally, Dumbledore sighed. "I received this a few hours ago."   
  
He handed a badly crinkled scrap of parchment to him. Confused, Remus unrolled it, and gasped. "It's from Harry!"   
  
That seemed to catch Sirius' attention. He looked up, still not loosening his grip.   
  
"Read it aloud," Dumbledore said softly.   
  
"_Sirius is in trouble. Voldermort has him. He's at the graveyard where Cedric died.   
  
Harry.   
  
Ps. I got this paper back after I tried to write to him. Do you think there are any enchantments on this?"   
  
_ Remus frowned and turned the paper over, almost dropping it in surprise when the dark mark glared back at him.   
  
"It doesn't say anything about what he was planning to do," said another voice behind him.   
  
Remus turned, and noticed the yellow face of Snape, still in his Death Eater cloak, and Madam Pomfrey, moping her face with a large handkerchief.   
  
"I should have known Harry would figure it out," Dumbledore continued, closing his eyes and looking away. "I didn't want to tell him because I know it would upset him. I thought it would be better to wait until we had some news. I should have known he would dream about it."   
  
Snape looked sympathetic for a moment. "No one could have guessed he would go after Sirius by himself."   
  
Dumbledore shook his head. "The third task changed him. He didn't want anyone else dying. Harry thought he brought only trouble and wasn't worth the effort of protecting."   
  
There was an uneasy silence.   
  
"What happened there?" Remus asked again, hand still trembling with shock.   
  
Sirius finally gave a muffled sob. "My fault… died because of me… killing curse… ran in front…," he buried his face in Harry's dark hair. "I tried to kill him! Imperious curse… broke his arm… tried to strangle him…"   
  
Remus felt horror stricken. Whatever Sirius had been through, he probably wouldn't recover this time. Losing the only person that he had left because of him…   
  
"Told me to tell… Ron and Hermione… sorry. Say hi to Professor Lupin for him," Sirius couldn't help but suppress a bitter smile. Remus choked and buried his face in his hands. "Tell Dumbledore that it wasn't his fault."   
  
"That's enough, Sirius," Dumbledore whispered. "Sleep."   
  
At his word, Sirius slumped backward onto the sofa, the grip on Harry slackening slightly. Slowly, Dumbledore extracted Harry from Sirius' arms gently rested him in another chair. He took off his glasses and folded them neatly on the table.   
  
"Poppy, can you see to him?"   
  
The nurse nodded, wiping her eyes quickly. She levitated Sirius' limp body, looking at Harry for a moment, and transfigured the couch into a bed. Remus barely noticed her as she passed, his eyes still fixed on Harry, leaning in the chair, looking like he had only been resting. He looked younger without his glasses, more frail and venerable. Too young to carry such a burden.   
  
"What are we going to do?" he asked, eyes unblinking.   
  
Dumbledore sighed again, smoothing Harry's hair. "Leave him. I still have hopes for Harry."   
  
Both Remus and Snape looked at Dumbledore sharply at his statement, but he didn't give any explanations. Turning, he made his way to the fireplace.   
  
"I have to break the news," he said softly. "Severus, would you like to stay?"   
  
Snape looked at Harry and then Sirius and shook his head. "I'll go."   
  
When he passed Remus, he opened his mouth as if wanting to say something, but closed it again. Stiffly, he followed.   
  
The fire flickered and died.   
  
Remus sagged against his chair, the room blurring in his vision.   
  
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
  
Am I evil, or am I evil? *cackle* There, see, Sirius didn't die! But, well… *hides*   
  
Thanks for all those great reviews! Sorry for not updating for a week, off with homework. No time to reply to any of them, ack, I'll do it for the next chapter. Sorry! But I don't have much time and I just finished a chapter a couple minutes ago. Now, to read, Biology *groans*   
  
I wished I changed the title… its really distracting. Humm… short chapter, what do you think? This isn't even halfway through, so bear with me here.   
  



	5. cheating the living

Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.   
  
a/n see bottom.   
  
Gia - *grin* I'm not telling… I have a rather bad habit about changing my mind in the middle of a story and going back to reedit a chapter. I've been trying to write three chapters at a time, and posting at five day intervals, so I won't suddenly decide to change the entire plot and have to repost the last two chapters. It's quite a pain. Of course now I'll be flamed for hiding the next two chapters, eep *hides*   
  
Tilly & MercS - eh? I was trying not to leave this chapter as a cliff hanger too, oops. I was trying to bring the first part of the story to a smooth close. Uh… *hides behind Tilly* I can't forget Biology, I almost got a C! *cries*   
  
Kelzery - the title does ruin it a bit, doesn't it? The ghost of Harry? Well, uh… that's...   
  
Evie - yay! I'm a good sort of evil, *schemes nicely* Uh… I'm not telling what happened to Harry. That gets explained in chapter… seven, I think.   
  
Midnight Dragon - here it is. Enjoy!   
  
Nicky - Wow, I'm mean and evil *malicious grin* but I'm glad you liked the story!   
  
Heaven - yeah, Sirius always gets the short end of the stick! It's really unfair.   
  
Vmr - thanks! I hope the quality of the chapters don't start declining. Hopefully, my muse stays with me.   
  
Starlight - I'm not telling *grin*   
  
Kimmy - wow, thanks! I can't tell you what happened to Harry, that'll ruin the plot. Suspense is the best… unless you're the victim. Then that really sucks, but…. Well… uhhh…   
  
Gaby - I took your advice! Originally, I didn't include any of that, but it's a very good idea. Tell me what you think!   
  
!!!!!!!!!!!!! - well, Sirius is still alive though…   
  
Abbsiegail - sorry! Well, because Harry is nice and doesn't want Sirius to die?   
  
D. Shimare - thank you for your encouragement!   
  
Lady Foxfire - I'm not telling *grin*   
  
Stardust - yeah, with Harry dead, a lot of other factors have to come into play, Voldermort's uprising and everything. Wait, are there any stories that have Harry killed?   
  
Allocin - I can't feed the donkey yet! Need to dangle the carrot a bit longer.. *cackle*   
  
Alexia - nope, Voldermort is still alive. This isn't quite the last battle yet, although I don't think I'll address Voldermort's death in this story. Or maybe… humm… I donnuo.   
  
  
  
This chapter's dedicated to Gaby, who suggested writing the reactions of the Weasleys, Hermione, and the Dursleys in the first place. Thank you!   
  
  
  
**Cheating Death  
** By neutral   
  
  
  
Chapter five - cheating the living   
  
  
  
Overnight, the entire wizarding world was in uproar.   
  
Peter Pettigrew ran in front of the Ministry of Magic, dark cloak in tow, screaming on the top of his lungs that the Dark Lord was back, and Harry Potter was dead. He had helped, and watched him kill. What's more, Harry Potter had died trying to save Sirius Black, the alleged murderer of his parents. He blurted out the truth of the secret keepers, the night of the third task, and waved his dark mark to the gaping crowds, and then burst into tears, begging for forgiveness. Even Fudge could no longer cover the suspicions and rumors running rampant.   
  
At first, people were in denial. If Harry Potter had died, where was the proof? Where was his body? Where was Voldermort?   
  
But when Peter Pettigrew confirmed his story under Veritaserum and Dumbledore admitted to Harry's death, a few began to have doubts.   
  
The Dark Lord of back.   
  
The Boy Who Lived was dead.   
  
Dead trying to save Sirius Black!   
  
The boy was insane, many said. His past finally caught up with him.   
  
No, others argued, Peter Pettigrew was guilty! Sirius Black was innocent all along, and Harry Potter knew.   
  
Why didn't he just block the killing curse like he did before? Some asked. Why couldn't he save us again? He was the savior! He was the one who could defeat You Know Who!   
  
But he's just a boy, others said. He lived because his mother died willingly. So maybe Sirius Black would become our next survivor.   
  
Not very likely, others decided.   
  
And then, every wrong that had been held against Harry when he was alive were instantly retracted. He was a parselmouth because Voldermort cursed him. He really had visions and dreams of his arch enemy; that was why he acted so oddly that year. He was just a child, burdened by the hopes of many, faced with impossible expectations. He was really a wonderful, special boy!   
  
But he was dead.   
  
Instantly, Remus' house was flooded by letters of denial, shock, and demand for the truth. They stacked on the side of the coffee table, ignored. Remus, after Dumbledore's departure, left for his room upstairs immediately. He shuddered when he passed the living room, with Harry still lying in the chair, eyes closed and face calm. He tried hard not to look at the body of his best friend's son, but once in a while, he could catch himself staring at the strands of messy hair that peaked over the side of the chair, or the glasses folded neatly on the coffee table.   
  
One morning, Remus woke up to find Harry's body gone and Sirius missing from the transfigured bed. He was caught in the fear that Sirius, at a moment's desperation, left the house with his godson's body, but his fear soon turned into worry when he found Sirius in the guestroom at the bottom floor, leaning against the bed frame and looking unseeingly at nothing in particular, with Harry slumped in his lap with the mockery of a child. Once in a while, he would run his hands through Harry's hair, still in the worn and oversized clothing. He was oblivious to the news around him; more likely, he just didn't care.   
  
Remus left the room quickly, not knowing what to say, but even more afraid of speaking at all.   
  
  
  
  
  
Molly Weasley pushed some strands of red hair that escaped the bun out of her eyes as she set the table, a bit flustered at having overslept that morning. The task of raising and maintaining a household of five men and one girl was draining, especially since she ended up with most of the work.   
  
"Morning dear," she mumbled as she caught sight of her husband making his way downstairs. She levitated the cup of coffee and the morning paper towards him, keeping one eye on the pot.   
  
"Mmm…," Arthur nodded distractedly, cup in one hand and tie in the other. He left the paper on the table, and as he was buttoning his robes, unfolded it with his elbow.   
  
The cup crashed to the floor. Arthur sat up, grasping the paper with both hands, eyes wide. Molly looked at him with concern.   
  
"What is it? Is it You-Know-Who again?" she asked carefully, her wand still pointing to the stove. It wasn't all a surprise; even though Voldermort had been keeping a fairly low profile, the Weasleys had been expecting an attack for several weeks now.   
  
Arthur didn't respond, but all the color had left his face. "Molly," he finally gasped out. "It's Harry."   
  
That instantly caught her attention. "What? What's wrong with Harry?" she asked worriedly.   
  
Arthur took a deep breath, dropping paper and taking unsteady steps towards the stairs. "Ron! Get down here."   
  
But Molly wasn't paying attention. A flashing picture caught her eye. She glanced sharply at it, jaw dropping when she saw the picture of Peter Pettigrew bursting into tears, hiding his face in his black robes, the dark mark visible on his wrist.   
  
  


** The Boy Who Lived is Dead!**  
Killed by the Dark Lord while trying to save Sirius Black   
  


  
The pot of boiling water chattered to the floor.   
  
"No," she whispered, hand covering her mouth in shock.   
  
"Mum, what's wrong?" Ron asked, taking in the picture of his parents, both pale and shaking, with unease. Something terrible had happened, and it concerned him.   
  
Fred and George followed closely behind, disturbed by the sound of broken cups and spilled pots. Soon, the entire household was gathered in the tiny dinning room, and Arthur and Molly were still speechless.   
  
Finally, Arthur pulled out the chair and sat in it shakily. He held out the paper with one hand and covered his face with the other. The twins looked at each other quizzically, before George took it from his father and handed it to Ron. Ron accepted it, looking at his parents uncomfortably.   
  
Instantly, his eyes widened. "What, that's impossible!" he whispered, trembling violently. "They're lying. They don't know what they're talking about!"   
  
"What is it?" Percy looked worried and irritated by the roundabout messages his family was speaking with.   
  
Ron wasn't listening. "It must be Rita Skeeter again. Hermione must have let her go and she's trying to retaliate," he flung the paper back at his father angrily. "Well, it's a terrible joke! I don't think it's funny at all. We should write to them and complain." Ron's eyes were narrowed with a burning anger that would have disturbed even Mafloy. His face was flushed, and he swayed on his feet.   
  
Percy paled at Ron's reaction, and picked up the paper hurriedly. He stopped at the headlines, and was silent for a whole minute before saying, "Harry's dead?"   
  
The twins cried out in shock and disbelief, while Ginny burst into tears. Ron ripped the paper out of his brother's hands and ripped it in half angrily.   
  
"That's not true. I just wrote to him two days ago and he said he was fine! He said he was bored… he said he wished he could stay with us," Ron's voice lowered to a strained whisper, and there was a suspicious brightness in his eyes. "He said he missed Mum's cooking, and he can't wait to see us at Diagon Alley."   
  
Ginny's choked sobs finally became loud wailing at that statement, and Molly covered her face with her hands. Arthur shook his head, willing himself to remain calm in front of his son.   
  
"I'm writing to Harry right now. I'm going to tell him about this _stupid_ article that Rita Skeeter wrote!"   
  
"Ron, let's write to Dumbledore and ask him," he said softly.   
  
But that was the wrong thing to say. Ron's face suddenly flushed again, and he glared at his father with unsuppressed anger. "It was Dumbledore's fault! He didn't let Harry come home with us. If Harry was here, then this would never have happened!"   
  
"Ron," Arthur said warningly.   
  
"I'm writing to Harry right now…" Ron whispered, sounding slightly desperate.   
  
He looked unsteady on his feet as he backed slowly towards the stairs. Fred reached out to place a reassuring hand on his youngest brother, looking a bit dazed at the news, but Ron knocked it away angrily.   
  
"Don't touch me!" he yelled, "Harry can't die, he's not suppose to die. They're lying!" Ron rubbed his eyes hard, and fled up the stairs.   
  
The room was silent.   
  
  
  
  
  
Hermione spilled her drink all over her eyes when she ran her eyes over the front page of the Daily Prophet. She didn't even notice her parents when they jumped up to rescue the table cloth, or when they called her name. Her eyes were only locked on the headlines of the article.   
  
The Boy Who Lived is Dead…   
  
_ Harry is dead…   
  
_ "No!" she gasped, pulling the paper closer despite the plates she knocked aside. "This isn't possible!"   
  
Harry was dead. Her best friend of four years was dead. The boy she remembered, looking nervous and determined before each quittich game, looking bored and irritated after each Divination lesson, and pale and haunted at the end of fourth year, was dead? How was that possible? She just received a letter from him yesterday reassuring her that everything was alright, and he wasn't having any dreams.   
  
But Harry wasn't the type to confess his fears, Hermione realized with a sinking heart. He could have known Sirius was missing for weeks or suspected it, and not tell anyone. But he would tell his best friends, wouldn't he?   
  
With a sinking heart, she recalled that Harry never seemed to mention Sirius in any of his letters. He said his scar wasn't hurting, but Harry often lies about things like that just so he couldn't worry anyone. And to run after Sirius, with foolish and stubborn thoughts of rescuing him seemed exactly like something Harry would do.   
  
Hermione's dropped the paper, covering her face with her hands, not even bothering to hold back sobs. Harry was dead. He was dead! Distantly, she could feel a comforting hand on her shoulder.   
  
"Hermione, sweetie, what's wrong?" her mother asked gently.   
  
She shook her head, words choked back by sobs. How could they understand? They didn't even know about Voldermort…   
  
Her parents seemed to silently understand. They asked no more questions, and her mother folded her into a reassuring hug, smoothing her hair gently.   
  
"Shush, I'm sure whatever happened, it'll be alright soon."   
  
"No!" Hermione tore herself away, dimly aware of her parents recoiling in surprise. She had never yelled like that before. "It'll never be alright! What'll we do? What'll Ron and I do?"   
  
It was her fault! She should have noticed it sooner. Maybe if she told Dumbledore about her suspicions, Harry would still be alive. Her fault…   
  
Sobbing, she pushed herself away from the table, her chair clattering to the floor. She wasn't even aware of herself stumbling up the stairs and slamming shut her bedroom door. Sinking to the bed, she buried her face in her pillow, muffling the cries that racked her body and tore at her throat.   
  
He was dead!   
  
The words seemed to taunt her mind. She shook her head, trying to hide from the truth that plagued her. No, that's not true, she wanted to say, but it seemed more and more unconvincing every minute. Finally, Hermione lay limply on her bed, tired and weary from her tears. A tap drew her from her numb cocoon, but when she caught sight of the glass at her nightstand, she felt a consuming anger burn.   
  
"Look what you've done!" she yelled, glaring at the brown beetle with venom. "You made the whole world think Harry's crazy when you knew that wasn't true! You did it all for your own benefit. Everyone thinks he's insane. You turned everyone against him! And when Harry really needed help, no one was there all because of _you_! Harry's dead, and it's all your fault!!"   
  
Even as the words left her mouth, Hermione knew it was not true. But she couldn't help it. The news was too much to bear; she had to take it out on someone.   
  
"Did you have any idea how miserable you made him last year? Now Harry's dead, he's dead! Are you happy? You want to go and write another big lie about how he was Voldermort's servant? You think it's funny to ruin other's lives don't you?" Hermione continued, tears streaking her face. She couldn't stop; she was too angry.   
  
Rita Skeeter was looking positively frightened then, backing as far away as possible and flapping flimsy wings against the glass.   
  
"Forget about our agreement! I'm not going to let you go at all. I don't trust you to fix anything! You can forget about eating too, I'm going to add you to my beetle collection!"   
  
Hermione grabbed the jar and shoved it in the deepest recess of her closest, hands trembling with unsuppressed emotion, wanting nothing more than to make the reporter as miserable and unhappy as she. She hated her. She hated them. She wanted revenge.   
  
  
  
  
  
Vernon Dursley slammed his coffee mug down in irritation.   
  
"Damn those salesmen. Dudley, go open the door," he complained, not looking up from his paper.   
  
His whale of a son glared rebelliously, fingering his Smeltings stick, but said nothing. Ever since Harry's disappearances, he had been forced run on these small tasks, and he wasn't happy. Secretly, he was planning to give that freak a good twack when he returned.   
  
Vernon finally looked up from his newspaper when a loud squeal echoed through the room and a chunky boy ran into the kitchen faster than scientifically possible for something his size. He crawled under the table with much difficulty and covered his backside. He didn't even need to speak for Vernon and Petunia to realize what's wrong.   
  
A sallow, yellow faced man with a long back robe and the boniest fingers he's ever seen stalked into the room, looking sour. His hair was in thick black strands, holding so much grease that he was sure it would be dripping soon. Vernon stood up, shielding his wife and son as best as possible, holding his fork in a position he hoped looked intimidating.   
  
"If you're here looking for the boy, he isn't here. He ran off a couple of days ago; if he caused any trouble, it's none of our business," he growled, narrowing his eyes at the eagle-faced man.   
  
The man looked at him with an unreadable expression. Vernon shuddered, feeling as if he was trying to slice him in pieces with his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was smooth but full of annoyance.   
  
"I know Potter isn't here," the man sighed, looking a bit weary. "He died three days ago. I didn't want to be the one to break the news, but everyone else is busy."   
  
It took several minutes for the news to sink in. Vernon frowned, wondering if this was some sort of joke, but his wife gasped.   
  
"He's dead?" she whispered slowly, looking a bit dazed. Her tone bore a strange mix of regret and hope.   
  
The yellow-faced man sighed in exasperation. "I don't want to say it again. Here's the paper, if you want to know more."   
  
He flung a roll of normal looking newspaper, and instead of swatting it away like the plague, Vernon dumbly caught it. The man was serious, he realized. The boy really did die. For a moment, he felt excessively happy he finally got rid of the abnormal boy and wouldn't have to deal with the freak again. But then, there was a strange bubble of guilt. The boy didn't cause much trouble, now that he thought about it. He did strange things once in a while, but he never demanded anything. He always stayed pretty much out of his way.   
  
"How… how did he die?" asked a squeaking voice. Vernon blinked in surprise when he noticed that it was his son speaking. His curiosity overrode his fear of wizards, and he seemed almost worried. The news of his cousin dying reminded him of his own mortality, and that was unnerving to say the least.   
  
The man snorted, a bitter grin coming to his face. "Potter's a stubborn fool. His godfather got into trouble and he traded himself to save him. Died the same way his mother did," a brief look of pain seeped into his eyes, but they quickly hardened again. "You should have watched him, knowing how much trouble that boy gets himself into."   
  
The shock of the news quickly became defensiveness when Vernon realized the stranger was accusing them. "Well how were we suppose to know?" he hissed. "The boy never talks."   
  
"Well I hardly wonder why. Do you ever call Harry by his name?" the man snapped, looking sour and angry again.   
  
"He's just a freak," Dudley mumbled, a bit braver after his first question, but all of that evaporated when Snape turned a furious glare his way.   
  
"I see why he wanted to get out of here so badly," he whispered, looking bitterly amused. "I understand now." He turned to the Dursleys with his most intimidating glare. "Listen, Potter was a very important person. His death made a lot of people very unhappy, especially his murderer of a godfather and his werewolf uncle. They might come after you, and I assure you, the only reason they never skinned all of you alive was because Harry would have been upset."   
  
The Dursleys visibly paled at that statement, and Dudley gave a frightened yelp.   
  
Petunia shook her head, looking a bit shaken. "We've never wanted him to die."   
  
"Potter obviously thought otherwise," Snape snapped, looking more irritated than ever. He didn't trust himself not to hex one of them to take out some of his anger. Sighing, he rolled his eyes. "Forget it. I'm here to pick up his stuff; where's his room?"   
  
  
  
  
  
Snape glared at the pitiful excuse for a room irritably, taking in the clock, held together with scotch tape, and the various broken muggle devices that lay scattered across the room. So this was Potter's room. On normal occasions, he would have been disgusted, finding a few snide remarks on Harry's cleaning habits, but now he wasn't surprised at all. With the bewildered but strangely satisfied expressions of the Dursleys (the horse woman was the only one who looked remotely upset), he was starting to regret giving the boy such a hard time.   
  
The potions professor sighed, sinking into the undersized bed and running his hand through his hair wearily. The past three days were a nightmare, with Dumbledore's office flooded with mail and Fudge threatening to imprison him for Death Eater activities. It was obvious he was trying to use him as a scapegoat to rescue his scampy reputation, but that pathetic minister was doing more harm than good.   
  
And Harry was dead. That was still hard to believe.   
  
He hardly wondered when he started calling Potter, Harry. He barely noticed the change. It hardly seemed important anymore. And sitting here, in Harry's old room, he could feel the memories returning again. That intent stare Harry gave him that morning at the graveyard, when he told Snape he wouldn't leave because if would cost him his life. That look of anger and desperation when the dark cloaks surrounded him, and Harry realized he was hopelessly outnumbered and death was inevitable. That sense of determination when he rushed towards Black, without hesitation, not even wincing from the broken bones he must have jostled.   
  
Snape rubbed his eyes angrily, wondering when he'll ever be free from that reoccurring nightmare. He was starting to dread sleep; every night, he would see a flash of green, and the limp form of the boy slump over Sirius, looking calm and peaceful for the first time in his life. Or he would hear him scream out in pain and disbelief when his own godfather snapped his arm. Snape shuddered. With all the dreams he was going through, he couldn't even imagine what it was for Black. To lose the only person he had left to his own foolishness…   
  
The potion's master stood up quickly, growling low in his throat. He was going soft, he thought as paced the room. Soon, he was going to be sympathizing with the werewolf.   
  
Snape sighed again, catching sight of a worn quill lying by the bedside, and crumpled sheets of parchment on the tattered desk. Hesitantly, he reached for one, spreading it out slowly over his knee. The tiny scrawl was obviously Harry's, and from the smudges on the letter and the uneven sentences, it was written in darkness.   
  
_  
Hermione,   
  
Do you know if Voldermort is causing any trouble lately? I have this strange feeling   
  
_  
The rest of the letter cut off abruptly, as if Harry was embarrassed for admitting a weakness. Snape scowled; just like a Potter. But even as that thought surfaced, Snape began to have doubts. Harry was very different from James. He remembered the stoic, neutral expression of his when Snape had threatened him with the truth potion last year. Harry had been calm despite all those attacks, almost indifferent, but he could see the fire burning in his eyes. How much self control did it take, for him not to cry out in protest? If it had been James, he would have been at his throat within minutes, but Harry was silent and enduring. Snape rubbed his eyes; what wouldn't he give to have Harry alive again. A distant part of his mind cried out in horror at that thought. It would make everything a lot easier, he snapped at it angrily.   
  
Another sheet of paper was entangled in that, and Snape drew it out carefully and spread it against the bed.   
  
  
_ Ron,   
  
Snuffles isn't writing. Do you think something could be wrong? Dudley is being a prat. I think he's bitter about the ton tongue toffee incident   
  
  
_ Snape raised his eyebrow at that.   
  
  
_ And he's been trying to hit me with that stick of his. He's too fat to actually reach very far.   
  
_  
Snape paused, remembering the cry of pain when he gripped Harry's shoulder. He thought he had been acting then, but it fell into place. He scowled when he recalled the long, angry looking stick that resided in his cousin's chunky hand. That whale tried to hit Harry with that? And his aunt and uncle let him? But it would be a miracle if they actually didn't, Snape realized with a sinking heart. Those pathetic muggles saw Harry with something just short of the plague.   
  
_'Finally got that freak off our hands,_' Vernon was mumbling when he showed him to his door. It took all of Snape's self control not to hit him with an unforgivable right then and there.   
  
Angrily, he snatched another crumpled sheet of parchment from the floor, lying close to the bag acting as a makeshift trash can.   
  
  
_ Snuffles,   
  
I had a strange dream. I can't remember it, but it left a strange feeling. My scar doesn't hurt though…   
  
_  
It was never completed. Snape sighed, desperately wondering why Harry never contacted Dumbledore. It could have saved his life. He didn't have to die like that!   
  
He should have stopped him, Snape thought furiously. He should have grabbed Harry and just ran, mindless of all the Death Eaters surrounding them. Who cares about his spy status. Who cares what Harry would have said. At least he would still be alive!   
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
This is a slow chapter, sorry. It's more of an interlude than anything. Ack! Cheesiness attack! Very, very, very cheesy. Oozing cheese. Urg! Help!   
  
I'm sorry, Hermione's characterization wasn't that great. I wrote it on my laptop in some Chinese restaurant with a waitress breathing down my neck.   
  
I couldn't decide whether I wanted the Dursleys happy or sad, so they were sort of both. It made it worse, didn't it.   
  
Snape sounds too nice. Way too nice, but you have to admit, Snape isn't that bad. He just has some issues, sort of. Yeah.   
  
I hit a slight block. I have part of the story planned, and wrote all the way up to chapter nine before I realized I don't like the direction it's going and got a whole new idea which I absolutely adore but too lazy to write.   
  
Originally, I planned to have Harry discover a secret that would umm... be sort of important later on. Unfortunately, that sort of left Sirius out of the story and crashed the entire high strung, rather tense atmosphere of the plot and make it all slowly crawly. But it's all the way up to chapter nine (still only half way done though, grr)! What a waste of time and brain cells… Would you want to read it anyway? I'll post it separately, but it probably won't be finished.   
  
The one I really, really want to use keeps Sirius in the running (the story description completely gave it away. Crud. Gotta change it) Personally, I like that one a lot better, especially since it keeps Sirius and Harry as the focus and settles some touchy issues, but changing gears in the middle of the story is still a pain. *sigh*   
  
Review! Constructive criticism is great, I'd like to know how I'm writing.   
  



	6. cheating guilt

Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.   
  
a/n see bottom.   
  
Wah! More great ideas, Hagrid and Draco's reactions. Humm… it's tempting, it really is, I think I'll add it as an interlude. *runs off to write that* I understand how everyone wants more Sirius in the last chapter, so I wrote another blurp and stuck it on here. The only downside to that is I had to cut the last scene short, and made this chapter a cliffhanger. Oopsie. Sorry about that.   
  
I cleaved this chapter in half, but it's posted earlier. The second part is still under revision (ack, I really need to get rid of the habit of reediting a story over and over again after its finished.). A question, would you like shorter chapters but shorter wait time, or longer chapters with a longer wait time?   
  
  
  
**Cheating Death**  
By neutral   
  
  
  
Chapter six - cheating guilt   
  
  
Sirius leaned against the edge of the four poster bed, staring dully ahead at nothing in particular. He barely registered the cold wood behind his back, or the crisp blankets beneath him. All he could feel was the small weight of the body nesting comfortably against his. Sirius ran his fingers through Harry's hair, trying to smooth out his untamed locks. The skin was warming from the heat, and if he imagined hard enough, Harry was still alive.   
  
His body was tired; he could feel the ache of his strained muscles and the burn in his dry eyes. But he could seem to close them, he didn't dare sleep. Dreams were all that seemed real now. Those were the only things that still gave him some semblance of emotion. But every time he rested, he could see the face of Harry, screaming out in pain and disbelief, and feel his hands warm and slippery with Harry's blood.   
  
_  
No! Fight it, Sirius. I know you can!   
  
A sickening crack. A scream. _  
  
  
Sirius shuddered. Harry had faith in him, but he let him down. His fault. Harry died because of him. All his fault. His fault. What would James say?   
  
James…   
  
  
_ "You know, Sirius, you're going to be the worst godfather in the world."   
  
"Wh--?!" Sirius choked on his drink, coughing incoherently. He flushed angrily for several minutes, trying to regain his power of speech.   
  
"But that's the whole point! You're going to teach him all the secret passages, tricks, pranks, and miscellaneous stuff that you can think of and set him lose on his eleventh birthday on Hogwarts grounds," James laughed, brown eyes shining as he patted his friend on the back condescendingly. Sirius swatted it away with mock anger. "You're going to corrupt him!"   
  
"And you're not?" Sirius looked at his friend incredulously.   
  
James made a face. "Lily would skin me." _  
  
  
Sirius shivered again, pulling the small form tighter. He failed. He couldn't do anything James asked him to do. Harry grew up alone, without anyone who loved or cared. Even when he returned, it wasn't for Harry, but for Wormtail. James was right, he was the worst godfather in the world…   
  
For the past three days, he stared at Harry's unmoving form, he couldn't help but wonder, why?   
  
_ Was I really that important? Was I worth dying for? Harry barely even knew me. He was so desperate for someone who cared…   
  
_ Thinking back, he probably spent less than twenty-four hours in Harry's company. Their longest conversation was probably their first meeting in the Shrieking Shack, Sirius decided. And that didn't well for any godfather - godson bonding.   
  
When he met Harry, he was rather surprised at the similarities between him and James. Only, James was one of the tallest boys in his year, and Harry was the shortest (probably malnutrition, he thought bitterly). The exact same face, the same build. They were both ridiculously stubborn, lazy in their school work, great at quittich. That was it, he thought then. If he ever got custody of Harry, it would be like raising James. He was excited, it was like meeting his friend all over again. But that time, Sirius had loved Harry not as himself, but as what he represented to him. He didn't really know Harry at all.   
  
But as he watched Harry, it soon became more and more obvious the differences between the two. Harry was much more quiet and introverted. He didn't play pranks, in fact, he did everything to stay out of trouble. He didn't trust easily; he shared very little of his secrets. Then, at the first quittich game during Harry's third year, everything came and struck him right between the eyes. Harry was heavily affected by dementors, enough to actually pass out in mid-air and fall off his broom. What sort of memories and experiences did he have to make him have such a violent reaction? He was a thirteen year-old boy! Harry wasn't James, he realized then. When he saw Harry's face twisted in hate and anger, accusing him of his parent's death, Sirius finally realized the toll his past took on him.   
  
  
_ "You never heard her, did you? My mum… trying to stop Voldermort killing me… and you did that… you did it…"   
  
Those words were like a solid blow to his face. He stumbled as if Harry had just struck him in the face, or perhaps it was James he saw that night. It was like seeing that dream of his best friend from Akzaban again, face twisted in anger, accusing him of his death, accusing him of his betrayal. Sirius wanted to break down and apologize then, make him understand, but he couldn't. He just couldn't.   
  
  
_ His fault. It all came back to him. If he hadn't asked James to switch, then Harry would still have his parents. If he still had his parents, then he would never have found himself in his position.   
  
Harry would never have been so haunted. He would never have given up his life so thoughtlessly.   
  
Sirius shuddered, burying his face in Harry's unruly hair, wishing with all his heart that somehow…. Somehow he could give Harry his life to wash away his guilt.   
  
He never asked for this. He just wanted Harry to be happy. He'd do anything to make Harry happy.   
  
Sirius could feel the mistiness in his eyes again. He choked back tears, pulling Harry closer. It was his fault. He never deserved such a sacrifice. He should be the one dead. Not Harry… never Harry…   
  
  
  
  
  
It was extremely dark. Fire burned at the corners of his vision, and in every direction he looked, there was nothing but thick swampy earth. Silence rested across the world like a heavy blanket. His breath was thick in his throat.   
  
A dark, wet marsh. He was walking, each foot sinking into the mud up to the knee. It seemed to take hours pulling it out, and he swore he felt the earth pull back, clamping around his legs like a mouth. But he had to keep moving. He moved forward at a painfully slow pace, but where was he going?   
  
He didn't know, but he knew he didn't want to stay still. How long was he there? Four, maybe five days? It was impossible to tell.   
  
Harry frowned. Why was he here? All he remembered was Sirius and the killing curse. He had run forward, intent on saving him, and just when everything faded into darkness, he fell, and woke up here. His arm wasn't broken, his sides didn't hurt. Only shadows of the bruises were left, but they were painless. His clothes were the only testimony as to what happened, tattered and ripped, smudged with blood.   
  
At first, he was reluctant to move. He sat shivering on a small patch of dry land for hours, or was it days before he realized no one was coming. So now, he was walking through a no-man's land, without even the soft song of birds to keep him company.   
  
Step. Step. Step.   
  
Harry froze, looking around him in shock. He rubbed his eyes, looking again. What the hell--?   
  
It was like walking into a dark room and suddenly finding he was in a green house full of life. One minute, he was trudging through the marshland, then the next, the ground was dry and firm, sunlight filtering through the trees above him. The air was pleasantly warm like an early summer morning. Harry looked around, but all he saw on either sides were miles and miles of forest.   
  
"Hello?" he asked tentatively.   
  
There was no answer.   
  
He walked forward, picking his way through the dense forest. For some strange reason, he felt at ease here, as if nothing could hurt him.   
  
"Potter? Harry Potter?!" a voice behind him exclaimed.   
  
Harry jumped, spinning around and reaching for his wand instinctively. His heart when he realized his pockets were empty. The man behind him didn't seem to pose a threat. The look on his aged face was one of admiration.   
  
"You're The Boy Who Lived," he choked out, eyes drifting over his scar. "My name's Diggle. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."   
  
He gripped Harry's hand and shook it furiously, still looking at Harry in awe.   
  
"You look a bit different from those pictures, but you're not insane at all! What was that Skeeter woman thinking? Such and honor, such a honor," Diggle said, his train of thought inconsistent. Harry could barely make out the words coming from his mouth. "I was going to congratulate you on your Triwizard Tournament victory, but considering the unfortunate circumstances, I'm sure you wouldn't like it. But it's still wonderfully shocking. Wonderful, wonderful…"   
  
Harry tore his hand away with great difficulty, trying to keep his facial expression neutral. "Thank you, sir."   
  
"And so polite too! So humble, such a sweet little boy," Diggle continued.   
  
Harry scowled at being termed to so condescendingly, but all the admiration seemed to vanish from the other man's face in a heartbeat.   
  
"Why are you here?" Diggle asked, looking serious quite suddenly.   
  
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, bewildered. "Do you know where this is?"   
  
"How could this happen? You're the survivor," the man looked increasingly agitated, twitching slightly as he rubbed his hands. "How… how did you..?"   
  
"What?"   
  
"How did you come here?"   
  
"I don't know. That's what I was asking you!" Harry was beginning to get a bit annoyed. Diggle spoke in mixed messages that ran in circles.   
  
"This is the land of the dead. You're dead, Mr. Potter."   
  
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
  
Humm… do you want shorter chapters so I can post sooner, or longer chapters and a longer wait in between?   
  
I cut this chapter in half, ack, but that means I can post every 2 days instead of five. But what do you think?   
  
Sirius reaction doesn't seem that well done. Originally, I wanted him to be really confused, but I ended off running around in a tangent and this was the result. Crappo.   
  
Thanks for all those great reviews!   
  
Saber202 - thanks!   
  
Lady Foxfire - * hands Lady a tissue* it's okay….   
  
Connie - *grin* don't worry! I haven't even hit the climax of the story yet! Although, I think my writing quality's going down. Crud.   
  
Shei - that's a great idea! *plots on how to bring Hagrid into the story* humm… do you want to see more reactions, or jump start to the action? Reactions are so much more fun to write though… humm…   
  
Jimmy Bilenko - woah, that's a good idea. But then, crud, I already write out parts of the sequel and the epilogue, nooooooo!!   
  
Vmr - thanks!   
  
Nicky - yup, here it is. I hope you liked Sirius' reaction!   
  
Shayla - hehe, blame everything on Snape, yes! I'm not telling what happened to Harry.   
  
SiriusBPadfoot - yeah, but just yesterday, I butchered chapter eight and cut and pasted new scenes. I have a really bad habit of doing that… eep. What do you think about Sirius' reaction? I didn't think I handled it really well…   
  
Black Sparkles - wah, I'm trying! Thanks for your encouragements though!   
  
Gaby - humm… yeah, that would seem right. I thought Ron would be in denial, and Hermione, who usually thinks objectively, would accept the knowledge of Harry's death more willingly. I'm glad you liked the Dursley's reactions! I was afraid they seemed too bland…   
  
Keara Jordan - wow, was that scene really that tear jerking? Wow… I'm flattered! Thank you so much! Draco's reaction? Humm… that makes a nice interlude chapter, of how he's dealing with Harry's death. *rubs hands together excitedly* thanks for the idea!   
  
Tilly & MercS - eep! *hides* I made this chapter sort of a cliffhanger, and the next chapter is too! Ack ack ack! *runs into the closest and hides*   
  
Lin-z - thanks for the encouragement! I was afraid of not being able to finish this too. I have a really bad habit of not finishing anything, so… I might just take you up on your offer! I hit a sort of writer's block, well, not really writer's block, more like plot block towards the middle of the story, and I'm trying to work my way around it. If it doesn't go away, I'll email you for advice! Thanks you!   
  
Alexz - I'm trying! I really am!   
  
Starlight - well… I donnuo…   
  
BK - here it is! Tell me what you think   
  
Kate Potter - thank you!   
  
Gia - it's not even partly finished. If all the chapters remain cleaved, I'm guessing it's going to be about 20 chapters in length, I think. Not sure yet though…   
  
~AK~ ~AM~ ~JT~ - *grin* I'm not telling…   
  
Jessie - well… I donnuo… but I can tell what happened to Harry…   
  
Evie - well… Harry's fate is a secret! Yes, it is. Harry is dead *cackles wildly* muhahahaha! I don't know what happens at the end yet… haven't planned that far. Still haven't gotten past the stupid plot block… *sigh* uhoh *runs off to hide*   
  



	7. cheating the dead

Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.   
  
a/n alright! your wish is my command, a chapter's going to be posted every two to three days. Enjoy!   
  
  
  
**Cheating Death**  
By neutral   
  
  
  
Chapter seven - cheating the dead   
  
  
  
Harry almost stumbled in shock. "Wh-- what?"   
  
The man looked at him sadly. "The Boy Who Lived is dead. What a shock everyone will get!" he whispered mostly to himself. He glanced at Harry timidly, "Was it… You-Know-Who?"   
  
Harry frowned, thinking back over the past events. That made sense, actually. He was dead.   
  
"Yes," Harry said finally.   
  
"It seems that everyone here died because of You-Know-Who."   
  
That caught Harry's attention. "Everyone?"   
  
"Yes, or at least, everyone I've met. I wasn't dead for very long, maybe only a couple of weeks," the man sighed, shaking his head. "Looks like Dumbledore was right. Fudge should have listened to him."   
  
Harry nodded distractedly. He wondered how Sirius was taking the news; he must be so thorn and so unhappy. But at least he's alive, he reminded himself firmly. He'll forget about me and move on. Although, with Sirius' personality, he wasn't sure.   
  
"I was just going home, and I got this really strange feeling, like something evil was there, you know?" the man continued. "Then I heard this high pitched laugh, and before I turned around, I was here." He shook his head, "Strange, huh? I don't even know who did it."   
  
"Voldermort," said Harry automatically. It wasn't exactly loud, but the man looked horrified.   
  
"You said his name!" the man looked both shocked and impressed.   
  
"Why not? He's not going to come if you do," Harry grumbled bitterly, a bit annoyed and upset by the whole issue. He knew it wasn't because of the man, but because of the whole place in general. When it came down to it, he missed Sirius.   
  
"How did you die, Mr. Potter?" the man asked, looking curious and eager.   
  
Harry hesitated, trying to decide if he should tell him the truth. Well, it wouldn't hurt, he decided. He was dead anyway; he might as well tell the truth.   
  
"Sirius--," he began.   
  
"Sirius Black?! I thought Voldermort killed you. What did that murderer do?"   
  
"He didn't do anything!" Harry shot back, instantly defensive of his godfather. "Sirius is innocent! He was framed by Peter Pettigrew. Pettigrew was the one who brought Voldermort back."   
  
The man looked stunned. He opened his mouth, eyes wide.   
  
"Sirius is my godfather," Harry went on, daring the man to say more. The reputation Sirius lived with was completely undeserving, and Harry heard too many horror stories of him to take any more from the dead. "Voldermort captured him and tried to use him to get to me. Well, it worked."   
  
"What if Black was just pretending, with, you know…" the man whispered, looking incredulous.   
  
"No! I went voluntarily. Sirius would never do something like that," Harry sighed, deciding the man was hopeless. He decided he better leave out the rest of the details. "Anyway, Voldermort killed me with the killing curse."   
  
"What? But you can block it!" the man looked horrified.   
  
"My mum blocked it for me. I didn't do anything. All the fame went to the wrong person," Harry said softly. "I'm nothing special."   
  
The man looked disappointed, but didn't say anything. They walked together in silence, Harry looking at the trees around him, a bit awed at what he was seeing. He was shocked heaven looked so… earthy.   
  
The man slowed suddenly, the expression on his face sobering even more. "There is, you know…," the man glanced around, as if looking for a eavesdropper, voice lowering secretively. "another Dark Lord here."   
  
Harry's stomach dropped. He just died by the hands of one of the worst wizards alive, only to face another one in death? Was he cursed?   
  
Seeing the look of shock on Harry's face, the man continued a bit more eagerly. "They say he's just like You-Know-Who, the soul collector, he is. I haven't seen him yet, but I hear he's pure evil."   
  
Harry was desperate to hear more, but a rustle in front of him made him jump. A tall man with dark brown hair and light brown eyes stepped abruptly into view, and Harry wondered if everyone here seemed to appear out of thin air or if the place was enchanted to give such an effect. The man was past his prime, but his face still bore an expression of youth. There sternness in his eyes made Harry shudder. The man looked haughty; there was a familiarity to him somehow.   
  
"Ah, there you are," said the wizard, looking relieved. He turned to Harry by way of introductive, "That's almost our landlord; people say he's been here the longest."   
  
"Mr. Diggle, is this a newcomer? He is young…" the man said. Harry jumped; he knew that voice.   
  
"Are you kidding? He may be young, but he's Harry Potter!" the man looked immensely proud, the memory of the past conversation clearing from his mind.   
  
But Harry wasn't listening. He was staring at the man intensely, gears clicking in his head. "Riddle!" he hissed.   
  
Mr. Diggle was confused. "This isn't Riddle, his name is Thomas."   
  
"He's Tom Riddle!" Harry shouted at him fiercely. Diggle backed away slightly in surprise, but Harry's eyes were fixed unmovingly on the man's face.   
  
Both men looked shocked. Riddle turned to him with a lifted eyebrow, "You know me?"   
  
"No, but I know your son," Harry growled, the anger in his voice surprising even himself.   
  
"He's not my son," Riddle said evenly, a blank stoic expression fixing on his face.   
  
At his words, Harry's anger flared. "No wonder he hated you. If you hadn't abandoned him, then he might never have become Voldermort!"   
  
The old wizard gasped, looking at Riddle in shock. "You're You-Know-Who's father?"   
  
But Harry wasn't listening. "If you hadn't been so foolish and so narrow-minded, Voldermort would never have had the reason to hate. Then all these people would still be alive! Bertha Jorkins, Cedric…," Harry's voice sank into a whisper, but his eyes were burning. "My parents would have been alive! All of this was your fault!"   
  
Riddle looked unaffected despite the animosity the two wizards were showing him. He gazed at Harry critically, "So you're the boy who first defeated him. Harry Potter, was it?"   
  
"I didn't defeat anyone!" Harry shouted, the events of the past day and his death all piling onto him in a moment. He was tired. He was upset. He was angry. "I never wanted any of this! I just wanted to be left alone," Harry choked, his frustration burning in his throat. It seemed so overwhelming that no amount of yelling could release it. "Do you have any idea how many lives you ruined? If it wasn't for Voldermort, Sirius would still be free! Do you have any idea how it haunts him? Do you have any idea what you've done?"   
  
The was a ringing silence.   
  
"If it'll make you feel better," Riddle began slowly. "I'm sorry. I should have killed him the moment the witch told me the truth."   
  
That was too much. Harry fumed, feeling the fire inside of him flare into angry fires. He was sure Riddle would blow up like his Aunt Marge a hundred times over. Diggle trembled, looking terrified.   
  
"You're… you're You-Know-Who's father!" he said, shaking from head to toe. "Don't come near us! Stay away from us!"   
  
Diggle backed away, tripping over a stray branch, but didn't fall. He spun around and fled from the two with amazing agility. But Harry barely felt him go, eyes still fixed on the annoyingly calm figure in front of him.   
  
"You… you're worse than the Dursleys!" he finally gasped out, voice trembling violently. "At least they didn't throw me out the moment they realized what I was…"   
  
He caught himself quickly, a bit embarrassed for talking about his personal life. Harry clamped his jaw shut, backing away slowly from the figure. He watched Riddle suspiciously, fearful that he might attack without a moment's notice. When Riddle faded from sight behind the truck of a tree, Harry turned and broke into a run, not knowing where he was or where he was going.   
  
He hated this place. He wanted to see Ron and Hermione, and tell them he was sorry. He wanted to see Sirius and make sure he was okay. Even the Dursleys didn't seem so bad anymore.   
  
He finally slowed his pace into a walk for what seemed like hours later. He was deeply lost in the endless forest; the trees never seemed to grow thicker or thinner apart. Harry leaned against a tree, gasping for breath, closing his eyes to rest for a moment. When he opened them again, he nearly fell. Harry blinked several times in shock, staring at the space around him. The trees had disappeared, fading like the darkness before it did, and plain, whitewashed walls stood in their place. It was a room, Harry realized, looking around nervously. A small, simply furnished room that smelled like Madam Pomfrey's hospital wing, only it was smaller and more dimly lit. The only light that illuminated the walls was the streams of sunlight from the window. Judging by its color, Harry decided it was late in the afternoon.   
  
He was sitting in a chair, facing the door. Somehow, he vanished from the forest, and appeared in the room. If this was the Land of the Dead, it should be more consistent, he thought bitterly. He stood up, looking around slowly, worried that Riddle may sneak out from the shadows again. He paused when he caught sight of the figure close him, slouched over on the bed as if the weight of the world was too much for him to bear. His robes were disheveled and loose on his body; his arm betrayed his weight completely, with the bones sharp against the skin. His hair hung in thick black strands, unbrushed and unwashed. He made no sound, and for a moment, Harry wondered if he was dead. But then the man shuddered, shifting his head slightly.   
  
Harry gasped.   
  
  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
  
  
Ack! My old style is back stronger than ever. I've been trying for weeks to keep the descriptions short, but now…. Damn. Sorry, a lot of homework this week. Gotta run. Can't reply to anything, I promise I will next chapter!   
  
this is really strange. Yesterday, on a long, four hour drive, I went on a roll and wrote all the way up to chapter sixteen. the only problem is, it didn't quite follow the plot that I planned out, so now the story's in the open see writing itself. Crud. Now, to keep or not to keep? humm...   
  



	8. cheating forgiveness

Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.   
  
a/n see bottom.   
  
  
  
**Cheating Death**  
By neutral   
  
  
  
Chapter eight - cheating forgiveness   
  
  
  
"Si… Sirius?" he whispered hesitantly, hardly believing his eyes. His godfather looked nothing like the man he saw a few hours ago, or was it days? He probably lost even more weight than before, his skin was beginning to take on a ghostly hue.   
  
Sirius didn't respond. Hand trembling, Harry reached out and touched him gently on the shoulder. He connected with rough fabric, much to his surprise. Sirius stiffened, but remained silent.   
  
"Sirius?" Harry whispered, a little louder.   
  
Sirius froze at his voice, straightening slowly but not daring to speak. Then slowly, very slowly, he turned at stared at the hand on his shoulder.   
  
"Sirius," Harry said again, a tone of desperation in his voice. "Can you see me?"   
  
Sirius lifted his head, his sunken, haunted eyes stopping on Harry's face. The look in them was unreadable, but then a mixture of hope, hurt, and disbelief fluttered on his face.   
  
"Harry," he choked out.   
  
He grasped Harry's hand tightly, and for the first time, Harry noticed the bundle lying in his lap. He cried out in shock and surprise when his own face met his eyes, looking deathly pale in oversized robes. But before it could sink in, he was enveloped in a tight embrace that made him lose his balance and fall forward. Sirius didn't seem to notice, his face buried in Harry's thick black hair, shaking with silent sobs.   
  
"Oh god, Harry. Harry. Harry," he said over and over again, words strangled between gasps.   
  
Harry's eyes were wide, barely noticing even when Sirius crushed him tightly against his shirt. His gaze was locked on the form lying discarded on the bed, limp and lifeless. His body. How was this possible? Was he a ghost? Was this an illusion?   
  
"I know I'm dreaming, but I don't care," Sirius was whispering, words choked in his throat. "I don't care if Moony thinks I've finally gone insane. I just wanted to see you again."   
  
"Sirius," Harry said, slowly touching Sirius' arm hesitantly. "I don't think I'm alive."   
  
Those words seemed to pain him even more. Sirius' sobs racked his entire body, pulling him closer and burying his head against his chest. Harry patted his back awkwardly. He had never seen his godfather cry like this before, and he was sure it took a lot for him to break down. Seeing him like this was frightening. Harry could feel his eyes misting in response, feeling strangely young and helpless again.   
  
Was it really because of him? Harry wondered. Was he really that important?   
  
"Why?" Sirius asked suddenly, resting his head on Harry's unruly hair.   
  
Harry hid his face in Sirius' coarse shirt, trying to forget the question. He didn't want to think; he just wanted to hide in his godfather's embrace, and hide from all the troubles that plagued him. He wasn't even sure himself, it seemed like a distant dream, blurry and fragmented.   
  
"I don't know. All I remember was," Harry paused swallowing uncomfortably, unsure how to put his thoughts into words. "I really, really did not want you to die."   
  
Sirius responded with a indiscernible word, and Harry felt himself pulled closer. He hadn't really thought about Sirius' reaction when he threw himself in front of the curse. But now, seeing him broken like this, Harry began to wonder if he had made the right choice.   
  
"Is this a dream?" Sirius finally asked.   
  
"I don't know," Harry admitted slowly. "I remember running in front of the curse, and then appearing at a marsh. Then out of nowhere, appeared trees, and the other Riddle was there and Diggle was saying something about another Dark Lord. And then I was here. It doesn't make any sense."   
  
"It doesn't matter," Sirius whispered. His voice still sounded distant, as if he was expecting to wake up at any moment and he was still trying to cling to the dream.   
  
Sirius quieted, but refused to loosen his grip. Harry was stiff in the embrace, unused to the display of affection, but Sirius didn't seem to notice. .   
  
"Oh god, Harry, I'm sorry," Sirius whispered in his hair repeatedly. "I should have died. It shouldn't have been you."   
  
"No!" Harry said quickly, a surge of anger replacing his distress. "I'm glad you're alive. You should be alive. I don't care what happens to me."   
  
He wanted Sirius to be happy, but it seemed whatever he did produced just the opposite effect.   
  
Sirius shook his head fiercely, clinging to Harry like a lifeline. "You were too young. It should have been me. I'm sorry, Harry. I'm so sorry."   
  
Harry hugged back awkwardly, trying to be as reassuring as possible.   
  
"Sirius, you can't go on like this," Harry said softly, voice muffled against the robes.   
  
He could feel Sirius shaking his head again, stubbornly refusing.   
  
"You have to move on. Don't let this hold you back."   
  
"No!" Sirius whispered angrily. "I don't care what anybody says. I can't. I won't."   
  
"Sirius, you're letting your entire life go to waste!" Harry said a little louder than he intended. He pulled away, meeting Sirius' eyes furiously.   
  
Sirius stared back intractably, looking equally determined. "I've wasted so many lives already. I--"   
  
That was too much. Seeing Sirius so thorn, and his life in shambles was too much for him to take in. With all the frustration of the last few hours, the fear, the anger, the helplessness all crashed down on him. Harry burst into tears for the second time that week, crying harder than he did since Dudley had pushed him down the flight of stairs on his fourth birthday. He threw his arms around Sirius' neck, not embarrassed at the childish display, and sobbed.   
  
Harry didn't say anything. He couldn't seem to put any of his thoughts into words. He wanted to scream at Sirius, to tell him to let go, move on, forget his godson who did nothing but ruin others' lives. Didn't Sirius realize that he was just making Harry more miserable than before?   
  
"Stop it," Harry finally choked out. "Don't do this."   
  
Sirius seemed startled by Harry's reaction, but could find no words to reply. He finally closed his eyes, returning the embrace tightly, as if afraid he would disappear again. He rubbed his back reassuringly, waiting until Harry relaxed and quieted. Sirius smiled bitterly. His wish had been granted; he saw Harry again. Harry didn't blame him. He still loved him like his own father. But even so, Sirius couldn't help but wish for something more. Why couldn't they be less cruel? Why couldn't Harry be alive?   
  
  
  
  
  
The first thing that he noticed when he awoke was the dull pain on the bridge of his nose. Harry opened his eyes reluctantly, not wanting to move from the warm cocoon. The room swam back into focus as a coarse grey shirt, and Harry was surprised to notice he was leaning against something warm but bony, his glasses pressed against his face. He could feel a hand on the back of his head. When the memories returned, Harry sat up sharply. The room was still there. So was Sirius. And he was… asleep? Was that even possible?   
  
A part of him furiously hoped that it wasn't a dream; he couldn't fall asleep in dreams, right?   
  
Sirius' grip slipped away, his head lolling forward limply. Slowly, Harry stood up, careful not to jostle the surface, and moved so that Sirius would be lying comfortably on the bed. His godfather was tall, probably a good feet taller than him, but the past few days took a lot out of him, he was frighteningly light. Harry bit back a grimace as he noticed his bony limbs as he drew the blanket over him. His death must have hit him hard.   
  
He caught sight of the lifeless form on the bed. It was odd, staring at your own dead body. Perhaps he was a spirit, and the only way to return to life was to touch his old shell. Hesitantly, Harry placed his hand over the cold forehead, feeling the familiar zigzag of the scar under his palm.   
  
Nothing happened.   
  
Disappointed, Harry pulled away. He wasn't a ghost. He wasn't exactly a wandering spirit. He wasn't in a dream. He wasn't in the Land of the Dead either. What the hell was going on?   
  
Well, whatever it was, he really didn't want to stare at his own body. A bit fearfully, Harry dragged the lifeless form off the covers, trying to avoid looking at his own face as much as possible. He left the body in a chair at the furthest corner of the room, although it took a lot of dragging. Harry was left, pale and trembling from the effort. It was disconcerting, touching that thing. He couldn't relate it as once being himself.   
  
He took several deep breaths, then stopped. He could breathe. He could feel. Does that mean he was alive again, however separate from his old shell?   
  
Harry desperately hoped that was true. He didn't want to go back there to people like Diggle, or meet Mr. Riddle again. But even as he contemplated that, Harry knew he didn't regret his decision. Sirius was alive, and his was worth the sacrifice. He had caused so much trouble already; that was the least he could to.   
  
His thoughts were interrupted by a soft creak. The door opened slowly, and a tall, pale man with rapidly graying hair walked slowly into the room. Harry gasped in recognition, but Remus looked nothing like he remembered. There were dark circles under his eyes, with a dullness in their color, and he swayed slightly on his feet. He looked as if he suffered a rather untimely full moon.   
  
"Professor Lupin?" he whispered, hopefully. Perhaps if Sirius could see him, Remus could see him too.   
  
Remus stopped, turning his head in his direction. Harry's heart jumped, but he suddenly realized his old professor wasn't staring at him, but at the form beside him. Remus' face turned into a grimace of pain when he looked at the lifeless body, slumped against the chair.   
  
"Professor Lupin!" Harry said again, more desperately this time.   
  
But Remus made no indication of having heard him at all. He turned his face away, unable to bear the sight. His shoulders slouched in defeat, and he moved to sit beside Sirius' sleeping figure. He watched his friend in silence for a long minute with an unreadable expression. Finally, he sighed, burying his face in his hands.   
  
"I thought you were going to lose it there for a moment, Padfoot," he whispered.   
  
Harry bit his lip, wondering what had happened when he died. He must have caused everyone so much pain; he couldn't even imagine what Ron and Hermione were going through. It seemed that anything he tried to do made everything worse. He was trying to do everyone a favor! Harry thought angrily. He was trying to relieve them of a burden, but he ruined it. He ruined everything!   
  
Harry leaned against the chair in defeat, closing his eyes and willing everything to leave him in peace and just let him be. Why couldn't things be simple?   
  
A soft breeze ruffled his hair. Surprised, Harry opened his eyes, almost crying out when a wall of rocks and crevasses of a mountain face met his eyes. Large boulders littered the surface, and the ground was covered in sharp, fierce rocks. Behind him, sea of trees spanned out to the horizon, trees that Harry recognized instantly.   
  
He was back. Sirius was gone.   
  
  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
  
  
I really don't like this chapter. Something about it doesn't tie up, either that or its just poorly written. But i had this vague idea I'm going to be killed if I hide it any longer, so woah, here it is. I'll repost it maybe later when I find the time. Before then, bear with me here. Sorry!   
  
Surprise! How was that? *cackle* I'm trying to make this story as unpredictable as possible, and after reading the reviews for the previous chapter, it seems like it was working. *laughs evilly* pieces of the plot bunny will be released in the next chapter that answers what the hell Harry is.   
  
Wow… amazing reviews. I keep telling everyone I'll reply, but guess what, I have 4 tests tomorrow! I shouldn't even be here, but… wah… I feel so evil for hiding eight chapters away. I'm not going to post them until I'm sure they're ready, there's still a lot of errors in them and still need to be polished a bit.   
  
I'm so sorry this the last chapter was a cliffee! This isn't! See? I'm okay, right? I can come out of the closest now?   
  
Oh no, sorry Lin-z, I forgot to explain what happens to Harry's body. Umm.. Lets pretend that Harry's body didn't rot, okay? *grin* Uhh.. No more sugar for you Katameran! Crud! I hear my parents… gotta go. Byebye. Expect the next post at around… uhh…. 2 or 3 days.   
  



	9. cheating denial

Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.   
  
a/n wah! Everyone's giving me these suggestions, but I already wrote half of the story! No more no more! It makes me feel so guilty (don't ask me why, I just do… eep…). Umm… I don't know if I can make these chapters any longer, it would mean a longer waiting time. Everyone wants a shorter waiting time though, so I don't know.   
  
a request from shei: She's looking for a story she read a while ago about Harry falling in love with a muggle girl named June. They're living toguether and she doesn't know about Harry being a wizard. Harry asks her to marry him but before that he tells her his secret. And she breaks up with him, because he didn't tell her earlier. If anyone knows the title of the story or the author, please tell!   
  
  
  
**Cheating Death**  
By neutral   
  
  
  
Chapter nine - cheating denial   
  
  
  
Sirius stirred weakly under the covers, opening his sunken eyes slowly. Remus seemed not to notice. Sirius stared at the ceiling uncomprehending, looking dazed, but his eyes cleared abruptly and jerked up.   
  
"Harry?" he said sharply.   
  
Remus' stiffened, head snapping up quickly. He looked at Sirius' frantic expression with concern.   
  
"Padfoot," he whispered. "Harry isn't here."   
  
"No, that can't be right. He was here, I saw him," Sirius looked bewildered, eyes taking on a desperate glint as he glanced around the room. "He spoke to me. I heard him." He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.   
  
"No, Padfoot."   
  
"He was right here. I remember…"   
  
"Sirius," Remus' voice was trembling with suppressed emotions. "You're scaring me."   
  
Sirius was fell silent, afraid to meet his friend's eyes. He was silent for a long time, running his fingers over the sheets. He sighed, rubbing his hand over his eyes harshly.   
  
"I was dreaming," he explained, head bowed to hide his expressions.   
  
Remus closed his eyes and nodded in understanding, sympathy etched in his face. "It's good that you're trying to get some sleep. I'll bring you something to eat." He patted his friend on the head with brotherly concern as he stood up.   
  
Sirius gave his friend a grateful smile. "Thanks for the blanket, Moony."   
  
Remus paused on his way to the door, looking back at Sirius in confusion. "You were sleeping under the covers when I came in, Sirius." Looking pained at the baffled expression on his friend's face, he asked slowly, "Are you feeling alright?"   
  
But Sirius wasn't listening. His eyes were darting through the room, finally resting on Harry, lying against a chair in the furthest corner of the room, limbs sprawled out haphazardly.   
  
"Did you move him?" Sirius whispered, eyes not leaving the pale face.   
  
"What are you talking about?"   
  
"Harry."   
  
Remus stumbled, color draining from his face. It seemed to take all of his concentration to remain standing. "Sirius, I don't know what you're talki--"   
  
"He was here," Sirius interrupted, face lit with a hopeful smile. It didn't even slip when Remus' shook his head and backing away almost fearfully. "I wasn't even lying in the bed, I certainly didn't cover myself with the blanket, I knew I fell asleep sitting. And Harry was right here…" he said, gesturing towards the limp body and pointing to the spot beside him on the bed.   
  
"Sirius, maybe you were sleepwalking or something…"   
  
"No! I remember it; I was sitting right here, and I felt a hand touch my shoulder. I turned around, and I saw Harry. He was solid, I could touch him!"   
  
"Sirius!" Remus shouted, leaning against the wall heavily. He shut his eyes tightly and shook his head. "Stop it! You--"   
  
"I'm not insane!"   
  
"--can't keep clinging to the past, Sirius. Don't let this destroy you!"   
  
"Moony, I'm not making this up."   
  
"Harry's death is not your fault…"   
  
"He was here! Or maybe he was Harry's ghost…"   
  
"Stop," Remus choked out, looking close to tears. He raised his hand warningly, visibly shaking. "Just stop it. I can't take much more."   
  
Sirius fell silent, his face clouded with concern when he saw his friend's ashen face. When he spoke again, his voice was pleading. "Moony, please believe me…"   
  
"I can't!" Remus' face was twisted in a grimace, it had cost him a lot to say those words that nearly cost Sirius his life fourteen years ago. "For the past three days, you didn't speak, you didn't move. You just held Harry and refused to leave this room. Now you say you've seen him," Remus' voice softened, the expression on his face filled with pain. "Sirius, please, you're the only true friend I have left. Don't loose when Harry tried so hard to keep you alive."   
  
Sirius looked aghast, eyes widening in shock at Remus' words. Finally, he tore himself away from his friend's gaze, fidgeting with the blanket distantly. His face was thoughtful for a long time, but his expression soon became hard and determined. He pushed back the covers, moving to stand up.   
  
"I need to speak to Dumbledore."   
  
Remus looked horrified. "Sirius, no! Don't make Albus think you're insane."   
  
"What about me?" said a rather amused voice.   
  
Both men froze in surprise, looking at the white breaded man standing at the door with mixed expressions of apprehension, hope, and fear. Dumbledore smiled at their silence, eyes twinkling for the first time in days.   
  
"Albus, did you hear…?" Remus asked hesitantly.   
  
Dumbledore waved the question away casually, clearing his throat to speak again. "Last night, I felt Harry's wand was responding rather strangely. Curious, I checked the wards placed on this house, but instead of discovering the presence of two people, I felt three."   
  
Sirius jumped up from the bed instantly, hungry for more information. Remus paled even more, eyes wide with disbelief.   
  
"Actually, it was two and two thirds."   
  
"What?" Sirius asked.   
  
Dumbledore watched the two carefully for a moment before continuing. "Whoever the third person was, he was incomplete. Parts of him were missing, like they were broken away or stolen from him somehow. But even so, the person contained immense power, much like Harry when he was very, very upset," Dumbledore paused, eyes taking on a rather wistful light. He broke into a small smile, looking at Sirius pointedly. "How is Harry doing?"   
  
There was a stunned silence that hung thickly in the room. Sirius blinked at Dumbledore numbly, before relief flooded his features, and he smiled for the first time in days. It quickly sobered when he recalled last night's memories.   
  
"He was confused," Sirius said slowly. "He didn't know if it was real or not. He… he didn't want to see us upset."   
  
Dumbledore nodded, twinkle fading slightly. "That sounds like Harry. It'll be hard for him for a while."   
  
"You mean he's really dead? He can't come back?" Sirius looked like he was voicing his deepest fear; eyes watching the older wizard with apprehension.   
  
Dumbledore sighed, helping Remus sit on the bed and seating himself into a chair nearby. "I'm not sure, although I admit I did know Harry had a possibility of coming back. When I heard the circumstances surrounding his death, I wasn't sure, but I still hoped."   
  
"What do you mean? Are you saying that Harry could have resisted the curse even without Lily's protection?" Remus asked, finding a voice to speak again. It still shook slightly, but some color had returned to his face, and he wore the same hopeful expression that Sirius had.   
  
"Remus, I'm sure you noticed when you were teaching him that Harry was unusually gifted. He's strong when he puts his mind on something. If he was as motivated as Hermione, I'm sure she'd be no match for him. He was a lot like Sirius and James, getting high marks without really putting his mind on it. " Dumbledore smiled, looking almost wistful. "Harry has a lot of untapped potential, enough to summon Gryffindor's sword from the Sorting Hat and wield it to its full power."   
  
Sirius was stunned, feeling a surge of fatherly pride. "He did that?"   
  
Dumbledore nodded, looking at the expression on Sirius' face knowingly. The amused twinkle in his eye soon faded when his mind drifted away. "But it appears that I have misjudged Harry's character again. Harry gave his life willingly, a bit too willingly. If he had fought against the curse, it would have been deflected. He is strong enough. He would have survived if the curse was thrown at him directly, but it seems that by throwing himself in front of it, he had no desire to struggle," Dumbledore sighed again, leaning back against the chair. "For that split second, Harry wanted to die. He was too weary, I think. I've been too hard on him." Dumbledore's shoulders slouched in defeat, looking old and feeble again.   
  
There was another tense silence.   
  
"How could he want to die?" Sirius asked weakly.   
  
Dumbledore shook his head, "Harry is too considerate, too kind, too fair, much like his father. Evidently, he changed his mind about dying soon afterwards, and returned in the form of a half spirit, visible to only a select few, but something made him leave again."   
  
Remus looked pained. "He probably felt guilty. I said some things…"   
  
"Remus, it could be anything that made Harry leave. But that isn't important right now. What I'm worried about, is why Harry couldn't return to his body."   
  
  
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
  
  
*cackle* I let the plot bunny go! Or actually, pieces of the bunny. Or maybe, humm.. I cut off a piece of its tail or ear or something.. Ack! Bad mental image.   
  
A rather poorly written chapter, I and short too (I know I've been complaining since chapter 7 but I can't help it! It seems to be getting more and more… what's the word I'm looking for… slow? But then again, I try to rush everything *sigh* donnuo whether that's good or bad). I like the first three, everything after that seem to go down hill. Urg. Rather long and tedious, but necessary for plot development, unfortunately. The part with Remus flipping out was a bit overdone though, but I loved it too much to remove it. Remus always seem very composed, but I thought it'll be interesting to put him in a situation where he can't help but crack. What do you think? How are the characterizations so far?   
  
Gia - *cackle* that's a secret!   
  
Lady Foxfire - don't worry! The story's coming along! And it will be finished! I hope…   
  
Lin-z - well, his body isn't really kicking… its just sort of… preserved. Uhh… yeah. The next chapter has the full explanation! Actually, it's not so confusing or twisting after chapter 11. Urg… maybe I should change the plot.. *schemes*   
  
Hermione45695 - don't worry, this one isn't that bad of a cliffee! It'll be explained soon!   
  
starkitty - I'm not hanging anyone, really I'm not! See… You're still alive… Did it really seem like James? I never really thought about it…   
  
Natasha Malfoy - umm.. Longer chapters mean longer waiting time. Can't have both though, sorry! I'm trying, I really am!   
  
Enji - uhh… I didn't mean to make Sirius so sad! Or maybe I did… but… he'll be okay! Really he will! He's not insane yet!   
  
Gaby - thanks! I was a little worried how the interaction seemed a little bumpy, but it seems that it turned out just fine. Yeah… I can't imagine touching a dead body either… eek… especially not my own. Crud… I forgot to mention whether Harry's body was healed or not. Uh oh.   
  
Kat - *laughs evilly* I am evil! Evvvvvvvil! Wow… did I really trick you?   
  
Slinky - Oo.. Does the lyrics match the story? I have to go download the song.   
  
Nicky - write more stories that I don't like. Humm… but then, that means I'll feel a bit obligated to keep editing it!   
  
Vmr - thanks!   
  
Shayla - yupz! I have the story written through chapter 17. I think I finally got the ending chosen, although it's sorta… what's the word for it. Nah, I won't spoil you. Uh… post sooner? That means the chapters will have to be even shorter… chapter 10 has some major errors, and I can't post chapter 11 until after I finish chapter 10! Urg!   
  
Phoenix - *grin* that's a secret! You have to read to find out. Wow… did you really think it was James? For some reason, I keep imagining James with brown hair.   
  
Rio Rapture - happiness to you too! That's good! Be demanding! it means I'll have to write better to please readers. Be critical, really, it helps me improve my writing. Somebody flame me, okay? Everyone's being so supportive so far… *sniff*   
  
Elspeth - I get points for Sirius torture! *dances around happily* nope, no clones here. I'm terrible at science *hides* Don't go nuts! Not yet at least!   
  
Natty - eh? You're shaking? Waah… I'm so happy you like this story… But was the last chapter too weird? Was it okay?   
  
Starlight - yeah, Sirius seems to be the type. But don't worry, you'll see what happens!   
  
Googoo4you - fix them later? But… that'll mean a repost… that'll mean.. delayed writing of the next chapter. Uh oh… I only explained it partially.. Don't get too mad!   
  
Bumblebe Bucy - yup! Here it is   
  
Rita - *grin* I already have a sequel underway.   
  
Evie - ack! You're making me feel guilty for keeping you up! Looks like everyone's after my neck for killing Harry. Well, Wormtail is already sort of… repenting. Voldie on the other hand… *schemes*   
  
Lily Potter - no, don't cry! *gets tissues*   
  
Tilly & MercS - *counts the number of cliffies in the next few chapters* uh oh, I'm going to need some food in that closet. Wah!! Help me! *hides behind Tilly and glares accusingly at MercS* don't kill me or I'll never be able to finish! *flees while wailing*   
  
Saphire - thanks!   
  
Nacasara - huh? He and Harry switched places? Oo.. Do you mean the part where Harry died for Sirius instead of the other way around?   
  
Alexz - yup! Here it is!   
  
Eleanor Branstone - here's the next chapter. Tell me what you think!   
  
Aalilyah - wah! I'm a horrible and evil person! *cackle* everything will be explained, really it will!   
  



	10. cheating hope

Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.   
  
a/n see bottom.   
  
  
  
**Cheating Death**  
By neutral   
  
  
  
Chapter nine - cheating hope   
  
  
  
"What?!" Sirius asked, his voice louder than he intended. He leaned forward, the only thing keeping him from grabbing Dumbledore by the collar of his robes and shaking all the information out of him was his last shred of common sense.   
  
"By all means, Harry should have been able to return. That is the niche in the killing curse: the body is frozen in time, and when its own spirit returns, it will be restored. But Harry wasn't complete. Something, or someone is holding him back," Dumbledore held up his hand when Sirius looked like he was going to comment again. "I don't know who or what it could be. Harry is the first who ever came back from the dead in this manner, so it was never documented what the place is like. It could be anything. It could be Harry himself."   
  
"Harry wants to return! He hates the place," Sirius growled fiercely. "I'm going to get him out of there…"   
  
Dumbledore interrupted him by raising his hand again, looking at his former student firmly. "Sirius, did Harry say anything?"   
  
Sirius sat back, frowning as he tried to recall bits and pieces of their conversation. It was hard; much of it was a blur like fragments of a dream. He stiffened when he remembered a few whispered words; they almost slipped his mind.   
  
"Harry said something about a marsh, a forest appearing suddenly. Then," Sirius' brow furrowed in thought. "Diggle. He said he saw Diggle; is Diggle dead?"   
  
Remus nodded grimly, "He was killed by Voldermort around the same time you disappeared."   
  
Sirius took in the information distractedly, his eyes darkening in worry. "Harry said something about the other Riddle and another Dark Lord. What does that mean?"   
  
Dumbledore sat up straight in his chair, his eyes looking fiercely triumphant. His face was calmly restrained, and when he spoke, his voice was still calm and even. "Tom Riddle, Voldermort's father. Quite unusual, don't you think? Out of the thousands that die everyday, Harry just happens to see the two people Voldermort kills. And another Dark Lord; very strange."   
  
There was silence following Dumbledore's words. Sirius frowned, trying to understand what he was saying, but it seemed impossible.   
  
"What are you implying?" he finally asked, looking at Dumbledore critically.   
  
But Dumbledore continued, oblivious to Sirius' question, or choosing not to answer. "The avada kedavra is a strange curse. Those who die by it do not decompose as people naturally do. It's takes pieces of their soul, but fragments still keep the body frozen in time. Do you notice how other curses that can be used to kill doesn't have a shadow of the person leaving the wand through prior incantum?"   
  
Sirius scowled in frustration, annoyed by Dumbledore's odd hints and riddles that never seemed to point at anything. But Remus leaned forward, looking as excited as his headmaster.   
  
"You mean it's the wand that steals the soul and stores it?" he said eagerly.   
  
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "That would explain a lot, wouldn't it? Why Harry only met Voldermort's victims. Why there is another Dark Lord. He is the mirror of the wand's wielder."   
  
"Is he holding Harry back?"   
  
"Ah, that part, I'm not so sure. It's really hard to say."   
  
But Sirius wasn't disillusioned at all. Rather, he had a determined fire in his eyes that replaced the hollow emptiness that resided there only a day ago, his face flushed with a hope that he hadn't had for years. "But Harry can live," he whispered aloud, mostly to reassure himself. He laughed softly, feeling as if a weight had been lifted and he could finally breathe again. He turned towards Dumbledore sharply, stubbornly resolute. "I have to help him. Harry can't do this by himself. I'm going there to find him, and I don't care how."   
  
"Sirius, we aren't even sure if that's possible," Remus said, looking worriedly at his friend.   
  
"No, Remus. Sirius has a point."   
  
The two students fell silent at Dumbledore's words, Remus looking at his previous headmaster in shock, and Sirius with gratitude.   
  
"Harry can't do this by himself," he continued. "He's defenseless and he's lost. He doesn't know who to trust, especially since he doesn't even know who his enemy is. It's best if he had someone there to guide him," Dumbledore stood up, his face taking on the expression that he bore whenever he faced a rather difficult riddle. "I have a spell in mind that might serve our purpose," he stopped by the door, looking back at his pupil with a fatherly concern. "Sirius, please think things over while I'm gone. This is a very serious risk that could easily cost you your life. Please choose carefully."   
  
Sirius frowned, angry that Dumbledore even suggested that he should back out of something as serious as this. What was he thinking? Harry's life was in question, and all Dumbledore could suggest was Sirius should keep his? He owed too much to the boy. Harry gave his life for him, a completely misguided action that would probably make James and Lily turn in their graves.   
  
No, Sirius was going to help Harry. Even if he had to give up his life, just to give him the smallest glimmer of hope. He was going to fulfill the task given to him fourteen years ago, and help him as a godfather should. Harry had been alone for too long.   
  
  
  
  
  
Harry rubbed his arms, hugging his legs close to his chest for warmth. No matter how he tried to draw himself behind the large rock, wind still whipped his body harshly. The sun had set hours ago, and he long since gave up trying to find his way down the mountain. He slipped and fell twice already, and came close to breaking his neck on a nasty fall several times. The cliff was uneven and unpredictable; rocks littered the ground in various sizes, all sharp enough to break skin. He wasn't sure if he could die again, but he didn't want to try.   
  
Now, more than ever, Harry wished had still had his wand. At least he would have some heat, or maybe even transfigure something into a makeshift tent. Shivering, Harry blew on his hands, and tried to pull himself further behind the rock.   
  
How Sirius was doing? Harry couldn't help but wonder. Was he still upset? Did he think everything was a dream? He wanted to see him again, go back to that small guestroom where everything exuded warmth and comfort, but at the same time, he was hesitant. He didn't want to see the pain that he had caused with his actions.   
  
A sound behind him made him jump.   
  
"Whose there?" Harry said loudly. The wind scattered his voice and made him sound strangely weak.   
  
"Who're you?" the voice asked sharply. "Why are you in the Badlands?"   
  
_ Badlands?_   
  
Harry stiffened; that name didn't bode well. What if he was in enemy's territory, like the Dark Lord's place?   
  
The was a shuffle, and suddenly the sky above ripped with a blinding light. For a brief moment, Harry caught the gleam of a polished wood being drawn by a youthful hand from the folds of dark robes. Harry's heart sank; the stranger was reaching for his wand. He was going to kill him!   
  
The past few days had made his rather rash, but with people attempting to kill him left and right, Harry had long since learned to reply on himself and take matters into his own hands. But it was still with a rather churning stomach that Harry flung himself blindly towards the stranger. The roar of thunder was ringing through his ears, the wind whipping his clothes. He struck the taller man solidly, feeling the figure grunt in surprise, the weight slamming against the rocky floor heavily. Harry reached for the stranger's wand hand, pinning it beneath his knee and trying to tug the weapon lose.   
  
"Get off!" the stranger hissed.   
  
He fended off his attacker with the free hand. Taken by surprise, Harry could barely react when the limb slammed into his side, knocking him off balance. He skidded on the rock surface, weaponless and out of breath. The stranger was on him in an instant, twisting his arm back and pinning him against the ground.   
  
"No…," Harry choked out, desperation setting in. He thrashed against the hold, but his shoulder screamed in protest.   
  
"Who are you?" the voice repeated. He pressed the wand firmly at the back of Harry's neck. Harry stilled, breath coming in ragged gasps as he struggled to breathe against the weight.   
  
"None of your business," Harry tried hard to keep his words steady.   
  
"Where is he?" the voice snapped.   
  
"Who?" Harry whispered hoarsely, baffled.   
  
The weight against his back abruptly increased, pushing his arm painfully. Harry bit his lip, holding back a cry of pain. "Harry Potter, where is he?"   
  
Harry paled, body stiffening. The man was after him. They were after him! The stranger worked for the dark lord. Harry chewed his lip, determined not to throw his only cover. He had to get away before the stranger discovered.   
  
"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said firmly, his words clear and firm in the howling wind.   
  
"Liar!" the man hissed, straining Harry's arm even further.   
  
Harry couldn't help but cry out in pain from the fire licking at his joints; any more and he was sure his arm was going to snap. But the pressure left suddenly. Harry squirmed into a sitting position, nursing his abused limb, weary of the wand still held against his neck.   
  
"You're… you're just a boy!" the man said hesitantly, sounding worried and rueful.   
  
Harry inwardly fumed at the condescending tone, but just as he drew a breath to come back with a sharp retort, a flash of lightning illuminated the sky like a midday sun. For a brief second, everything glowed with acute detail. Harry's breath froze in his throat when he caught sight of the man's face.   
  
From the silence that followed, it was obvious that he had seen Harry as well. The man seemed to have lost his voice, unsteady breathing echoing through the wind.   
  
The wand drew away from his neck; a soft spell lit the tip and sent grotesque shadows dancing across the rocky cliff face. Harry stared at the man unblinkingly, mind whirling with a million unspoken questions. Was he dreaming again? How could this be possible? Harry closed his eyes tightly and opened them again, but the man was still there. He could feel the color draining from his face, breath choked in his chest.   
  
"Harry?" the man whispered shakily.   
  
  
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
  
  
Yes, the rest of the plot is finally revealed! But… it's a cliffee! *runs from MercS to Tilly*   
  
I'm sorry this chapter is so… what's the word… (fill in the blank)… and a cliffhanger too, but I couldn't seem to get anything else to fit on this hope theme. Ack, I'm really sorry. This is what Bio does to you. That and three hours of sleep. If I flunk tomorrow, I'm blaming this story. *yawns*   
  
The title of the sequel is Playing Life *cackle* I'm still iffy whether or not I want to carry through with it though. But there're some good news, I'm almost finished with this story! I'm pretty sure there's going to be around 25 chapters, plus a bonus epilogue. I'm currently smudging my way through chapter 21. It gets a bit rushed towards the end. You can sort of tell by just reading it. From chapters 14 - 18 its all slow and sluggy, then chapters 19 -20, the plot makes a sharp crank. Its like you suddenly drank a gallon of coffee or something to that effect. I'm going to comb through the story with a fine toothed brush for any beefing up so it would seem so bad.   
  
Wah! RioRaptor, I'm so sorry. I have this auto correct thing on my word program and it automatically fixes everything it thinks it an error. It's kind of like parselmouth becomes parse mouth if I'm not careful and don't go back to check. Although, I have to admit, RioRaptor to Rio Rapture is a bit far fetched.   
  
See! There! Happy? Harry's not… entirely hopeless! Haha! Although it took… lets see… seven chapters to establish that. *grins*   
  
Crud. Time for bio, can't reply to all those great reviews. I'm so sorry! Thank you for all the support! It inspires me to write faster, it really does! Thank you!   
  



	11. cheating a dream

Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.   
  
a/n see bottom.   
  
  
  
**Cheating Death**  
By neutral   
  
  
  
Chapter eleven - cheating a dream   
  
  
  
"I really cannot eat anymore," Sirius mumbled irritably, pushing the half-full dish away.   
  
Remus raised his brow doubtfully, "Padfoot, that was the last sentence I could imagine ever coming out of your mouth."   
  
"Well, I can't! Where is Dumbledore? He's late," Sirius stood up, shifting the bag of supplies nervously.   
  
"Just sit still for a moment, will you?" Remus urged, looking at his friend with a mixture of amusement and concern. "Have some more. You don't know what it is like there."   
  
"Exactly. I don't want to have to find some bushes to relieve myself later," Sirius grumbled.   
  
He stood up and began pacing the room restlessly, a bit stiff after being confined to his room for three days straight. Sirius finally found some semblance of hope again and he wasn't going to let it go easily. He rubbed his hands together, trying to rid himself of some access energy.   
  
"Sirius, just sit down! You're giving me a headache and you're burning a hole in my floor," Remus said good naturedly.   
  
He sighed when Sirius just glared at him and walked faster. He was about to find another teasing remark, when the fireplace burst with a green flame. Sirius perked up in excitement, running to the fireplace waiting for the exact moment Dumbledore would tumble out. But instead of greeting the white bearded wizard with twinkling blue eyes, he came face to face with an eagle faced man with greasy hair.   
  
"Snape!" Sirius hissed, backing away in shock. He hadn't seen his old childhood rival since the Riddle House; after the past events, he couldn't help but feel a sort of mixed anger and relief. He quickly covered his confusion by scowling. "What are you doing here?"   
  
Snape sneered but didn't hold the glare. He moved out of the way just as the fire flared green again, and a blue robed figure stepped out. Sirius wondered how his old headmaster managed to look dignified even with this form of travel; the old wizard's robes were sootless and unwrinkled, and not a hair on his beard was out of place.   
  
"I'm sorry about not coming earlier. The potion took some time to prepare," Dumbledore said smoothing down his robes out of habit. "How are you doing Sirius, Remus?"   
  
"I think we better get right to the spell. Sirius isn't going to stay calm for much longer," Remus looked at Sirius pointedly.   
  
Dumbledore nodded, smiling knowingly. "Sirius, I know you're impatient, but there are parts of this spell that you must understand or else you'll never be able to come back. I'm sure Harry wouldn't be too happy with that."   
  
Sirius nodded impatiently, pocketing a shrunken bag of supplies and adjusting the collar of his new robe. "I know, but can we make this quick?"   
  
Snape grunted and Remus smiled knowingly, but Dumbledore only grinned wider.   
  
The headmaster shook his head and sat down, watching Sirius' face grow even more impatient. "I'll try. Sirius, are you sure you can manage the dispelling charm? It requires some concentration. Will you sit down for a moment?"   
  
Reluctantly, Sirius stilled in his pacing, and sat down. But even so, he twitched in his seat uncomfortably.   
  
Remus frowned. "How is that suppose to work in Harry's case?"   
  
"I was just getting there. In 1786, a woman who recently lost her husband to a rather unfortunate mishap transported her spirit with this charm. Her body was frozen, much like the victims of the killing curse, for three days before she returned. Supposedly, she visited her husband, although it was never quite clear. She came back, settled all her dues and sold her house. A week later, she performed the charm again and never returned," Dumbledore looked somber at the thought, eyes darkening worriedly. "I'm not sure whether she intended to do that or not, but evidence shows that she probably wasn't planning to return. It transports you spiritually to the place of someone close to you. Unfortunately, is it still a rather risky spell, but the only one that even has a chance of working. Have you decided, Sirius?"   
  
"Of course," Sirius said, looking angry that Dumbledore would even suggest that he back out. He stood up and began pacing again. "I need to get to him as soon as possible. Who knows what Harry's going through right now."   
  
"Relax, Black. Potter isn't a little boy," Snape snapped, looking just as irritated.   
  
"Well, all you ever did was make life miserable for him in school!" Sirius growled. The frustration of the situation was making him agitated, and his anger flared at the slightest touch. "Do you even--"   
  
"Sirius, let Albus finish," Remus interrupted hastily.   
  
Dumbledore sighed, looking at his two former pupils with an unreadable expression. "Sirius, you've practiced the charm before, only this time, we're going to add the potion designed to separate the spirit from the body. It should transport you directly to Harry. Remember, no matter what happens, the charm will end in ten days, so make sure Harry is back within that time. Take this with you," Dumbledore explained as he handed Sirius a small, cloth bag.   
  
Curious, Sirius dug through it, pulling out a smooth, thin wand that he recognized as Harry's, and another long dogwood branch that had several chips along the sides.   
  
"My wand!" Sirius looked at it with fond surprise. "They gave it back."   
  
Dumbledore smiled weakly, expression clouded by concern for his students. "Yes, you'll need it there." He drew a long breath, and pulled a small glass vile from the folds of his robes. The liquid was clear, and from the light, it looked as if it was filled with nothing but air. He handed it to Sirius almost reluctantly. "Sirius, if you're ready, we'll begin the charm now."   
  
Remus looked at his friend worriedly, "Sirius, be careful, alright? Bring Harry back safely."   
  
"And make sure you bring him back in one piece," Snape added.   
  
Remus glanced at his old rival in surprise, but Snape stubbornly avoided his gaze. Sirius barely noticed their exchange, eyes focused on the small, plain vile in his hand. He examined it thoughtfully, running his fingers across the smooth surface, then without warning, downed the contents in one gulp. Instantly, he shivered; the liquid was like ice, freezing his throat as it went down. It let an strange numbness as it faded that stretched like arms to every inch on his skin. Wrenching free of the mist that dulled his mind, Sirius forced himself to picture Harry: that first quittich game he saw that night in the rain, that night at the fireplace just before the First Task when Harry blurted out all his worries and doubts, that day in Dumbledore's office when he bore an empty haunted look like the world just crashed around him…   
  
Distantly, he felt his body growing limp. An odd, floating sensation overtook his senses, like all the troubles lifted and he was freed. He was leaving.   
  
He was going to bring Harry home.   
  
  
  
  
  
Harry stared at the man who could have been a carbon copy of himself, if it wasn't for his chocolate brown eyes and smooth forehead. His hair was as wild as ever, tousled by the strong winds and standing in every angle imaginable. His eyes were wide behind round-rimmed glasses, eyes fixed on Harry unblinkingly.   
  
"Harry," he said again. He lifted a trembling hand to his face, almost as if he was afraid he would vanish in a moment's neglect.   
  
Harry stared back at him numbly, still a bit dazed. Never in the past few days did he ever dare to dream of seeing his parents here. He never wondered.   
  
"I don't believe it," James whispered. "Sirius always joked that you'd look just like me when you grew up, but we never took it seriously." he broke into a wide smile, looking at Harry as if he wanted to memorize every detail on his son's face. "You look exactly like me, a bit shorter and skinner though."   
  
Harry wasn't listening. He could only stare at his father's face, thoughts whirling through his head. His father was here. He was here. After all those years of wishing, he was finally here! Harry could feel his eyes watering again when he threw his arms around the taller man's neck, the fire in his still sore arm forgotten as he buried his face in the thick folds of the cloak.   
  
"Dad," he choked out. "I missed you."   
  
James returned the embrace tightly, the awkward tension between them shattered. He looked at his son sadly, patting him reassuringly on the back.   
  
"I… I'm so sorry. I had no idea it was you," he said, touching Harry's shoulder hesitantly. "Why didn't you just tell me who you are?"   
  
Harry shook his head, "I didn't know!"   
  
James sighed, tucking Harry's head under his chin and running his fingers through the unruly locks, a gesture so reminiscent of Sirius that it made Harry shudder.   
  
"I didn't believe it ," James whispered, mostly to himself than anyone in particular. "None of us believed him at first. Lily was so angry. She was almost crying, telling him that it wasn't true. But the trees said the same thing, and we've been looking for you ever since. How? How could you die?"   
  
Harry drew a sharp breath, face still hidden in his father's robes. "I'm sorry. I threw it all away," he whispered, his voice amazingly steady despite his tears.   
  
James looked concerned, "What are you talking about?"   
  
"What you did for me. What Mum did for me," Harry pulled away, wiping his eyes and looking at the ground.   
  
James sighed, sadness traceable in his features. He placed a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder and bending down to face him. "You never asked for any of this. It was never in your control. We are just upset that you had to die," he frowned, taking in the bloodstains on Harry's worn, oversized clothes. He touched the still purple fingerprints on Harry neck hesitantly. "Who did that to you?" he asked, anger brimming in his voice.   
  
Harry paled, standing up quickly and trying to cover the streaks with a hand. How could he explain it? He wasn't sure James' would understand if he explained Sirius had tried to kill him under Voldermort's control. Sirius was already guilt ridden with his best friend's death; he didn't need James blaming him for this as well.   
  
"It wasn't his fault," Harry finally blurted out. "It was the imperious curse."   
  
James looked doubtful, but his son's reaction worried him. He was like a frightened child, clamping up and withdrawing into his shell at the slightest disturbance.   
  
"Harry, it's okay," he said gently. "You don't have to tell me right now. Lets find someplace warm."   
  
Harry nodded, giving James a sad smile that twisted his stomach. There was a lingering gloom in his features no matter what his son did. What happened to him?   
  
  
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
  
  
I'm sorry, if you're the reader who loves long complex plots, then this story must really suck. I have trouble writing anything longer than ten chapters, and this story has been a miracle for me so far. (it's 23 chapters total, I'm done!! Now for the epilogue…) I love reading long complex stories, but I can't write them. This story so far has very little characters, and very few lose strings to tie. I have a lot of trouble with new characters, and a lot of trouble with lose strings, so I tried to keep it as compact as possible.   
  
Of course, you can still have a choice. Do you want a lose plot that runs everywhere or a compact plot that only touches the essentials? I already finished the story, and it is very, very compact. And I do mean VERY compact, otherwise, I'm guessing the story will be around 30 chapters. I don't know if that's good or not… I don't want to disappoint anyone. But I'm in a hurry to get to the sequel, and considering this entire time frame is only 10 days, I don't think I have that liberty. But still, it's up to you! What would you want? Adding a couple of scenes here and there won't be hard.   
  
I'm really not suppose to post today. I have 150 pages to read for English and I haven't even started. Crappo. URG!! Oh well…   
  
Thanks for all those great reviews! The most I've had so far! Wow… looks like everyone was just waiting for Harry's life sentence.   
  



	12. cheating enemies

Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.   
  
a/n see bottom. I really don't know if I can email people about updates. I type my story on my laptop, but I don't have the password to my email address saved (and lo and behold, I forgot it too). The only way I can check it is if I go to my old computer, which I use about 2 times a week. If I email about updates, I might be horrendously late. I'm an idiot, aren't I?   
  
Part twelve b is going to be loaded soon! There was a glitch in the file.   
  
  
  
**Cheating Death**  
By neutral   
  
  
  
Chapter twelve - cheating enemies   
  
  
  
James pulled off his cloak and wrapped Harry in it tightly, despite his son's protests. He waved his wand to dim the bright light, and led the way down the rocky mountainside quickly, steps firm and sure. He was familiar with all the paths that led up the cliffs. James kept the shorter boy close, steadying him after he stumbled a few times. He was afraid to lose Harry after such a long absence, but at the same time, upset that he would be condemned to such an early death.   
  
Harry didn't deserve that, James thought angrily, as he gripped his son's hand tighter.   
  
James paused at an innocent-looking pile of rocks, Harry crashing into him at the abrupt stop. He raised his wand and whispered a soft spell, lighting the tip with a dim light. A dark, rather ominous looking mouth stared back at him. The opening was only large enough to fit a rather lean, full grown man, lined by rather jagged rocks, but it'll have to do for now.   
  
"There's a small carven down there," James said, "We'll have to hide out until the sun rises; it's too dark to travel safely."   
  
Harry nodded, and James marveled and how calm his son seemed. He climbed through the opening with barely an emotion traceable on his face. He recalled the stubbornness his son displayed then; he had to be proud of how brave Harry became, but he felt an unease when he remembered the hardness in his green eyes. It was almost as if Harry had expected himself to be hurt or even killed.   
  
James followed him silently, careful to keep his weight off the rocks as he slipped into the carven. His feet struck a smooth, even surface, and he raised his wand, illuminating the small room. He caught sight of Harry, leaning against the darkest corner, staring back at him with a curious, intent, but strangely timid expression. James wondered if hiding was an instinctive habit of his. Harry always seemed to go for dark corners.   
  
"Is your arm alright?" James asked, approaching his son and touching his shoulder guiltily. He couldn't help but feel a trace of shame the way he had twisted his arm harshly, but he had thought Harry was a Death Eater. It certainly seemed like it, the way Harry had attacked him.   
  
Harry nodded quickly almost reading his mind, but James could feel him wince. It was rather obvious he was lying.   
  
"Let me see. I could numb the pain a bit," he offered, lifting a light to his arm.   
  
Harry tensed when he pulled up the oversized sleeve of his shirt, and James had a vague idea he was trying very hard not to pull away. Harry was strangely jumpy; perhaps the last few hours had been traumatizing and trust didn't come easily. James bit his lip when he caught sight of his handprints, rapidly bruising against Harry's wrist. But a livid stain of blood plastered his elbow that he had never noticed before. James carefully pulled the cloth away to examine it, but Harry jerked away abruptly. Harry backed away, dragging the sleeve to hide his limb.   
  
"Harry, did I break your arm?" James asked, paling.   
  
Harry shook his head quickly. "No, you didn't. It doesn't hurt, really."   
  
"Harry, let me see!" James growled out.   
  
He reached out and gripped Harry's hand firmly, careful to avoid the bruises, concern quickly becoming frustration. Something had happened to his son, and his son was completely adamant not to elaborate.   
  
"Oh god," James whispered.   
  
A mass of purple blotches branded on his son's bony arm like paint. By the color, it was obvious he had died with it; James also bore a rather livid bruise on his side from a few broken ribs on his arrival as well. Despite the numbness that death brought from any injury that was carried over the living, it still stayed for well over a week. But at the fingerprints that littered the whole length of Harry's arm, it was as if someone had grabbed it and snapped the fragile limb like a stick.   
  
"Who did this to you?" James asked softly, gingerly touching the discolored skin.   
  
Harry tensed, looking tempted to tear his arm out of his father's grasp. He pulled his sleeve down, futilely trying to hide the bruises with his head downcast. James turned his head to face him, refusing to break the gaze.   
  
"Harry, tell me."   
  
"Voldermort," Harry softly, catching the brief flicker in his father's eyes. "All this was Voldermort's doing. No one else could be blamed."   
  
James could feel his stomach churn at Harry's explanation. His son was killed by the Dark Lord. After all those months of fear for Harry, in the end, they still failed. Slowly, he glanced at his son's face, catching for a moment the demons that lurked beneath his eyes.   
  
"What happened to you?" James whispered.   
  
Harry was silent for a long time, expressions unreadable. But when he spoke again, there was a tremor in his voice, and a watery brightness in his eyes. "Can we… talk about something else, please?"   
  
"Harry…"   
  
"Where you trying to avoid an enemy back there?"   
  
At the tone of Harry's voice, James realized that he was trying hard to divert the subject. But Harry seemed so uneasy, James was afraid to pursue the subject.   
  
He was going to find out, James told himself firmly. But only when Harry was ready. He would wait until his son trusted him with everything.   
  
"There are some of Voldermort's former supporters here. Lily and I were worried that they would come after you; I was afraid they already got to you. There are some ex-Death Eaters who aren't too happy."   
  
"They want me dead?" Harry asked.   
  
James was surprised to hear his son amazingly calm. The only emotion his voice betrayed was disappointment, almost as if he was used to people trying to kill him. James was brimming with questions about Harry's life, but Harry was probably confused enough as it is. Sighing resignedly, James sat of the floor beside Harry and lit a small, fuelless fire at their feet.   
  
"No," James finally answered. "You can't die again. All they can do is hurt you and torture you until you wished you were dead. But I'll make sure nothing happens to you," he said reassuringly.   
  
Harry seemed strangely unfazed. A dark, hollow look was visible in his green eyes for an instant before he turned away.   
  
There was a tense silence between the two where James furiously raked his mind for something to say. It was strange sitting beside his son when the last time he saw him was as an infant.   
  
"You're not very talkative, are you?" When Harry blinked back at him in surprise, James shook his head and ruffled his son's hair fondly. "When I was your age, I just ran away at the mouth. Well, sometimes," he added quickly. "McGonagall always had a fit."   
  
He was just talking to relieve the tension that settled between them again, but Harry looked extremely interested.   
  
"Really? What was it like then?" Harry asked eagerly.   
  
James grinned, throwing an arm around Harry's shoulders and ruffling his hair again. "It was some of the best years of my life. I'll tell you some other time; your mum will kill me if I tell you without her present," he frowned, thoughts soon sobering again. "So how was your life?"   
  
Harry was silent, but James could feel him stiffen beside him. He knew Harry was withdrawing again, but he couldn't bring himself to let the subject drop. He was curious; what happened? What made Harry so withdrawn? James seethed, silently screaming at Sirius for the neglect. And he thought Sirius would make at least a mediocre godfather too...   
  
"What does Sirius feed you?" James asked sharply, noticing the protruding bones of his son's arm as the light of the fire brushed against it. "Rabbit food?"   
  
Harry looked at him strangely, and when he finally spoke, there was a hint of reluctance in his voice. "I didn't live with Sirius."   
  
James' mind drew a blank. There must have been a long history that he missed, but considering there were no newcomers for thirteen years after Lily and his arrival, there wasn't much information for him to draw on. Other than the fact of Voldermort's fall by his son's hands, there was really nothing else he knew.   
  
"Why not?"   
  
Harry frowned, turning towards the floor to pick at small stone.   
  
"Harry," James gripped Harry's shoulder urgently. "what happened? Did something happen to Sirius?"   
  
  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
  
  
Notice a trend going on here? Everyone's suffering from self guilt! I think it's a major theme, but I wasn't paying attention. It just came out.   
  
Ack, yet another cliff hanger!   
  
I don't particularly like Harry and James' interactions, but hey, they haven't seen each other and don't know each other at all. Can't expect them to run into each others arms and wail, right? But it seems so…. *sigh*   
  
After I read through the smoothened story, it occurred to me that chapters 14 - 18 will be the most boring thing that you'll ever read. It's mostly an interlude after such a high strung beginning and (possibility end, but I'm not going to ruin it for you), but no matter what I try, I can't seem to bring myself to get rid of it. Waah… if I disappoint anyone, I'm really REALLY sorry.   
  
I'm really hard on myself, aren't I? *sigh* But I actually like this chapter… so I guess, humm…   
  
Tasha - *laughs evilly* I made it up for this chapter, didn't I? I mean, it's long. About twice as long as my chapters usually are. I was going to chop it at four pages, but…   
  
Lady Foxfire - that's coming! I can't seem to handle Lily's personality well, so she doesn't play a huge part. I hope you're not angry…   
  
Tilly & MercS - nooooo!! *runs* don't kill me this time! Umm… I can't really post any more chapters, because so many people want me to add scenes. So that's sorta the trade off while I go back in and fill scenes. Waah I want a bigger closet! Maybe… I can hide in the attic this time?   
  
Mike Potter - thanks!   
  
starkitty - here it is!   
  
Kat - yeah, the story isn't that predictable from this point on anymore. *sighs dejectedly* I hope you still enjoy it though!   
  
LilyAyl - I'll try!! Since I have that email problem, it might take me a few hours before I can get it to you.   
  
Sherlock2k - promise me you won't kill me if I don't *grin* this chapter is long, but I have a slight trouble with chapter 13 and 14 so it'll probably take more than 2 days to post them. Urg.   
  
Lin-z - uhh… I can't say! That'll ruin my story. Although, I have to admit, for the past few chapters, you have been psychic! *plots evil ways to throw Lin-z off* Oh! Another note. Draco's reaction's going to be introduced in chapter 14! It's sort of like an interlude chapter.   
  
Kay - yeah, I know what you mean! I don't think the sequel's that great of an idea… Ooo.. Chapter 8? Are you almost done?   
  
Ken-chan - I'm so sorry! *gets tissues*   
  
ravenclawer - thanks!   
  
Alexz - I will!   
  
Miss ice - I'll try!   
  
Gwen - see! He's almost there! Well… next chapter.   
  
Nacasara - waah! Thank you! *hands Nacasara tissues*   
  
Connie - your wish is my command! I'm adding some scenes and the story's about 2 chapters longer now. I'm not done though.   
  
Phoenix - but that means I have the potential of never finishing it! I'm already a bit worried about my sequel… but I'll keep your words in mind! Thanks!   
  
Vmr - thank you!   
  
Starlight - here it is!   
  
Madelaine - thanks for reviewing! It's very encouraging.   
  
Googoo4you - umm.. I haven't thought of a good explanation for that. Harry can come back because he has the potential and he has the power. Sirius isn't really bringing him back, he's just helping Harry find his way back. Voldermort? Well… I donnuo… *thinks*   
  
Allocin - well, I sort of took a middle ground. The middle is boring, and I do mean boring, I mean, it's a bunch of conversations with no action what so ever. So I beefed it up a bit, not a lot. I think you'll enjoy it! It keeps the plot tense.   
  
Sunny Girl - thank you so much!!   
  
Lily Potter - I'll try! I don't know if I can with my email problem.   
  
padfoots girl - here it is!   
  
Dark-Angel-Star - I think you'll like the new twist better! The story does take a significant drop, it's not as good as the beginning *sigh*   
  
Crescent - fear not! I will! muhahaha...   
  



	13. cheating yet more enemies

Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.   
  
a/n see bottom. you know how I kept saying chapter 12 was long? well... it wasn't really that long, this part was originally part of it, and it sorta got chopped. So... ignore what I was rambling about before *grin*   
  
  
  
**Cheating Death**  
By neutral   
  
  
  
Chapter twelve - cheating more enemies   
  
  
  
Harry fidgeted with the edge of his robes, "Pettigrew," Harry said simply.   
  
James' expression fell in an instant. "What did he do?" he asked carefully. His voice bore no anger, he had accepted the betrayal long ago. The dead never clung to such things, it was only the living that fretted over them. It always seemed that the people who suffered from loss were more heavily hit than the person who died. But even so, James was fearful of what Peter could have done against his best friend. Knowing Sirius' hot tempered character…   
  
James' mind clicked. He swallowed, throat constricting painfully. "Sirius killed him, didn't he? He killed him and they never gave him a trial. Everyone thought Sirius was Voldermort's supporter out for vengeance, didn't they?"   
  
James was almost afraid to meet Harry's eyes. But he couldn't help but sigh in relief at Harry's simple 'no.' But his next words froze the blood in his veins.   
  
"Peter framed him, faked his own death, and got Sirius thrown in Akzaban for twelve years."   
  
James' mind reeled. All he could do was stare at the boy beside him in shock, eyes wide and mouth gaping. All these years, he imagined his best friend raising his son with a mixture of envy and relief, they were trapped in miserable lives.   
  
"Oh god," he whispered, his voice strained. James shook his head, burying his face in his hands. "That happened to him? Because of Lily and I. We destroyed him…"   
  
Harry was quiet, at a loss of what to say. James echoed his silence, even the soft sounds of breathing muffled.   
  
"What happened to Pettigrew?" James couldn't keep the bitterness from his words.   
  
Harry shifted uneasily. "He never got caught."   
  
James was unable to find his voice for a long time. He gritted his teeth in frustration; after all they did for that rat, he repaid them by sending Sirius to prison! What wouldn't he do to give those years back…   
  
"So, Sirius is…," James swallowed, the news straining his mind and blurring his thoughts. "… insane now, isn't he?"   
  
"He's alright. I met him in my third year when he escaped. He's still pretty normal," Harry's face brightened with a brief smile.   
  
"Really? How?" James asked excitedly. He shook his head, afraid to belief but hopeful at the same time. "Nevermind that, how is he?"   
  
Harry's face fell. "Well, he… he's not that happy. He had a lot of guilt. Sirius thinks its his fault that you and Mum died," Harry said quietly.   
  
James' head snapped back up, "He believes that?"   
  
Harry nodded, face shadowed in the dark. James sighed, rubbing his face angrily. What wouldn't he give to get out of this dump. What wouldn't he give to just see his best friend again and pound some sense into his head.   
  
"How's Moony, then?" James asked, a bit fearful of the answer.   
  
"He's alright. He was a professor at Hogwarts for Defense Against Dark Arts for a year, but I don't really know what happened after that."   
  
James smiled wistfully. "That sounds like Remus. He was always the sensible one, stays on his feet no matter what's thrown at him."   
  
Harry nodded, looking thoughtful.   
  
"What about you?" James asked, watching Harry carefully.   
  
That seemed to silence instantly Harry. He stared at his father with a hard emerald gaze that made James uneasy. Harry's eyes were Lily's to the exact shade, and yet, they were so different. Harry's were restrained, almost icy in their calmness. Every gaze seemed to pierce him right through.   
  
"I…," Harry frowned; he seemed to be mentally filing through his memory and filtering out anything he didn't wish to share. "I lived the Dursleys."   
  
"What?!" James' thinned his lips into a tight line. "I can't believe Dumbledore did that. I mean, he kept saying that keeping you with Lily's relatives are the safest because of the blood protection, but I never thought he'd follow through with it! What did they do to you? Run you around the house with chores? Throw you all their broken junk? Lock you in a cupboard?"   
  
James couldn't control the fury than ran away with all the horrible images that his mind conjured up with his son's ten year stay with his relatives. Harry drew back further into the shadows, alarmed by the anger that permeated through his voice. If James had known how close he struck his mark, Harry could hardly guess what his reaction would be if he knew.   
  
"It wasn't too bad there," Harry mumbled.   
  
James sighed, exasperated, "Harry, are you ever going to tell me anything?"   
  
Harry turned to him with another searching gaze. "If I told you everything you just said were true, what would you do?"   
  
James grinned, but it faded quickly when he realized Harry was dead serious. "Well, I would wring Vernon's fat neck and burn down their house for revenge. But I can't really do that, can I?" James sighed, rubbing his face. "I don't know. I can't imagine what I would do. I mean, sleeping in a cupboard is just ridiculous."   
  
Harry snapped his jaw shut with an audible click.   
  
"It was alright. I learned a lot with them," Harry said with finality.   
  
"Harry!" James couldn't hide the frustration leaking into his tone.   
  
At that, he seemed to finally relent. "They didn't like magic. They thought I was strange," Harry whispered.   
  
James nodded in understanding, recalling the weekends he sent with Lily's family. There was a sharp stab of guilt as he pulled his son closer and trying to smooth out the hair he just ruffled. "Harry, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being there. I'm sorry for what you had to go through. I…"   
  
Harry shuddered at those words, and when he spoke, James was surprised to her a tremor in his voice as if he was desperately holding back sobs. "You're sorry too?" he choked out. "Sirius is sorry. Dumbledore is sorry. I think Professor Lupin is sorry too. I wish you could all just let it go. It doesn't really matter anymore."   
  
If it wasn't for the rather grim situation, James would have laughed aloud at Harry's title for Remus. Instead, he frowned, slightly baffled by Harry's words, but disturbed nonetheless. "Harry, what do you mean?"   
  
Harry shook his head and pulled away, wiping his eyes angrily. "My death. Sirius thinks my death is his fault. He thinks I died because of him. That isn't true!" Harry paused, his words faltering slightly. "No, a small part of it is, but not in the way that he thinks. It's not his fault, because…" Harry's voice drifted, and James could almost see him withdraw behind the wall. Harry shook his head, turning towards him with a small smile. "It doesn't matter. I'm glad I'm here now."   
  
"Harry, you shouldn't think that," James said, holding Harry's gaze firmly. "We were all upset that you had to die. You should have had the chance to live your life."   
  
"It wasn't that wonderful," Harry murmured bitterly.   
  
James was silent, worriedly looking at the boy. Harry was so different from what he imagined; from all the stories he heard, Harry was a confident, almost arrogant boy. He was self-assured, ready to take anything anybody threw at him. James had felt pride at his son's achievements then, glad that Harry had managed even without the guidance of his parents. But something told him that story was too idealized to be true. But he had hoped. Even so, he never imagined Harry to be so… haunted.   
  
"How did it happen?" he finally asked, looking at the flickering fire.   
  
Harry stared at him for a long time with an almost calculating look. "It wasn't Sirius' fault," he said finally. "Voldermort caught him and tried to use him as bait. They tortured him for weeks."   
  
James growled, the knuckles on his fist turning white as he gripped his robes in anger. "That sounds like something that bastard would do," James scowled, flicking at a rock, but something seemed to click in his mind. His head snapped up and he looked at Harry in alarm. "You went even though you knew it was a trap, didn't you? Running off with foolish thoughts of rescuing him…"   
  
"If you were in that same position, you'd do that too!" Harry said quickly, voice trembling. "I knew it wasn't going to work. I…"   
  
Harry stopped abruptly. James had the idea he wasn't going to give any more details.   
  
"Harry, what did you do?"   
  
Harry answered with silence, despite the intent stare James was giving him. Realization and understanding dawned on him, and James could feel his stomach fill with ice.   
  
"No…" He reached forward and drew Harry gripped him firmly by the shoulders, forcing him to meet his gaze, anger, frustration, and sadness filtering through his mind. "Harry, you idiot. You went even though you knew you were going to die, weren't you?" James whispered harshly. "Do you have any idea what you've just done? Sirius is going to be torn. He's never going to forgive himself. You might as well have killed him!"   
  
"I know!" Harry stood up quickly, looking pained. James was surprised to see tears brimming in his eyes. "I know… I saw… I just wanted him to be alive."   
  
But James didn't seem to hear the last words at all. He looked at Harry, gaping. "You saw?"   
  
"I saw Sirius, right after I left the woods and before I came here."   
  
James jumped to his feet. "You've seen Padfoot? You can leave this place?"   
  
Harry nodded, a bit alarmed at his father's reaction. "We're not suppose to?"   
  
A loud shatter drowned out whatever James was going to say next. Instinctively, James grabbed his son and tried to shield him from the sharp splitters of rock, his free hand gripping his wand tightly. Without waiting for the smoke to clear, James pointed haphazardly towards the entrance and shouted   
  
"_Stupefy_!"   
  
There was a grunt, and the sound of something heavy falling.   
  
"_Expelliarmus_!"   
  
James' stomach sank when his wand tore out of his hand and vanished in the thick smoke. He pulled Harry towards the fall wall, cloak and all, trying to keep him out of any curses that may come his way.   
  
"Give us the boy," came a cold, hard voice.   
  
Despite himself, James could hair rising at the back of his neck. He remained silent, pulling Harry into a protective embrace. "Quick, I'll distract them. Don't move from here, okay?" he whispered.   
  
The smoke burned his eyes and made it impossible to see his son's reaction. Distantly, he could hear words of protest, before he flung himself towards the sound of voices.   
  
  
  
  
  
Harry tried to cry out, tried to stop the father he just found from leaving again. But when James vanished into the thick of the smoke, he couldn't help but wish he could do something. Anything. If only he had his wand.   
  
There was a sharp cry, and then a shuffle of feet.   
  
"You bastards…" came an angry hiss, but the next words were interrupted with a cry of pain.   
  
Harry's stomach twisted. "Dad!" he called urgently.   
  
It was stupid, Harry soon realized. He just gave away his position. Instantly, shadows were on him, cold hands grabbing at his arms. He struck back angrily, the scene too reminiscent of the morning the Riddle house, where a swarm of Death Eaters surrounded him and came close to killing him. Harry could feel the fear and desperation returing, bile rising in the back of his throat. He kicked out blindly, trying to force his way out of mob, but when a fist met his face solidly and threw his head against the wall, Harry felt his resolution crumble. His head pounded, and his black spots filled his vision. He stumbled against a body weakly, grasping the folds of a stranger's cloak to remain standing. Distantly, he could feel himself being lifted, hands dragging his body along the rough floor.   
  
Abruptly, the smoke cleared, but Harry still couldn't see. Everything came in a wild blur; there was a mass of black shapes swimming in his eyes.   
  
He lost his glasses, Harry realized.   
  
He could feel himself lying on the ground, cold wind whipping his body again.   
  
"Dad?" he called out desperately.   
  
A cold, harsh laugh tickled his ear, "Look, the boy is only a pitiful child after all. No one's here to save you now, is there?"   
  
"What did you do to my dad?!" Harry said angrily.   
  
"Ah, who knows, I wonder. You know, Potter, master killed me because of you."   
  
A hand grabbed his hair, pulling him roughly to his feet. Harry cried out in pain, struggling to follow the stranger, when something connected with his back and threw him to the floor. The rocks ate into his chest and set fire across his ribs. Harry twisted against the man, but it only made him pull his hair painfully.   
  
"Let go!" Harry snapped angrily. He aimed a kick but only struck air. "Cowards! You're just taking your anger out on me because you're too afraid of Voldermort!"   
  
That was an instant death sentence. Angry voices filled his ears. The hand released him abruptly, and blows came from all sides. Harry tried to fight back, but it only seemed to anger them more. A kick forced all the breath out of his lungs; a weight forced itself on his collarbone and trapped him against the ground. Harry covered his face to shield himself, trying to squirm away from the sharp pain, but the weight on his shoulder kept increasing. There was a dull crunch, and fire, white hot fire, seemed to lick at his flesh and blood. There was anguished screaming, and it took a while for Harry to realize that it was his own. He couldn't even feel the kicks aimed at his ribs. He was only aware of the scalding brand against his shoulder.   
  
Distantly, he could feel himself being dragged again. A jerk jostled his arm, and tears rushed to his eyes from the pain. Then the hands were gone, and Harry could feel his body falling back, only there wasn't a surface to stop him. The wind rustled past his ears angrily, the cloak flying in the air.   
  
He was falling.   
  
  
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
  
  
I know, I kept Harry vague. There will be more details later. I didn't really think Harry would give James every single detail after meeting him for an hour. As for James' reactions, well… I couldn't get his personality straight. I always thought James was calmer and more mellow than Sirius. He's sort of like a Sirius and Remus in between. Plus, he's had thirteen years to dwell of what ifs. All in all… I screwed up.   
  
Looks like everyone wants to hear Harry's side of the tale and James' reaction. Well, I originally never planned to add it, since it seemed to take too much unnecessary room and plot content, but well… maybe… a vote on that?   
  
I can make the chapters longer, but longer chapters = longer wait time! Especially since I struck a nice writers' block with Draco's reaction. Lin-z, help!! I can't seem to write it, and when I did, Draco sounds like… Minerva. Oopsie. Maybe I should sacrifice Draco for more James and Harry bonding? Gee, that sounds funny, doesn't it? I don't think chapter 14 will be out in the usual 2 day time frame considering the problem I'm having with it right now.   
  
Uh oh, another cliffee. This is not good for my health.   
  



	14. cheating complications

Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.   
  
a/n I'm an idiot. I was trying to fix this glitch, and it turned out my computer loved cookies a little too much. #&^#*%@* Thanks Moppet for the 300th review! This chapter's dedicated to you!   
  
  
  
**Cheating Death**  
By neutral   
  
  
  
Chapter thirteen - cheating complications   
  
  
  
Sirius landed abruptly, his feet slipping over the slippery surface of the rocks. He caught the edge of a large projectile to steady himself, looking around him wearily. He was a bit surprised at the sight that met his eyes. He had imagined the place to be full of trees, just as Harry described, but all he saw was a tall cliff, almost vertically stretching upward, and a ground littered with rocks.   
  
Dumbledore said that the charm would transport him directly to Harry, but looking around, all he saw was some dead trees and rocks. Sirius scowled angrily. He was going to give that old man a piece of his mind the moment he returned.   
  
Sirius glanced around, searching for a navigable path off the cliffs, wondering how in the world he was ever going to find Harry in a forest that size. A path of off colored rocks caught his eye. Sirius stared at it, making out some brown tinted rocks that looked suspiciously like they were caked with dried blood. Sirius approached it slowly, fingering his wand. But the sight that met his eyes completely drove all thoughts of caution from his mind.   
  
A large splatter of rapidly drying blood spread like fingers over rocks. Splashes of brown tinted the grass in patches, and streaked the cliff face. It was like someone had thrown paint all over the floors, and let angry splotches over the area.   
  
The sound of something crunching beneath his foot made Sirius stop. He looked down, surprised to see a pair of round rimmed glasses, lens cracked, and frames completely brown in half. His throat constricted sharply when his mind clicked in recognition. Those were Harry's glasses.   
  
"Harry?" Sirius called out tentatively, looking around.   
  
Only the whispers of wind met his ears. A steady streak of blood ran, almost as if whoever laid there had somehow dragged himself away. Sirius desperately prayed that the whoever the person was, it wasn't Harry, as he ran across the rocky surface, searching for any sign of his godson.   
  
There was a soft whimper; Sirius jerked to a stop, scanning the area. A patch of red caught his eye.   
  
A small boy lay in a tangled heap of limbs and rocks, his body slumped against the cliff face like it was the only thing keeping him up. Scratches covered his tattered clothes, dyed red. His body was raked with strained, uneven breaths, his face lined with pain.   
  
"Harry!" Sirius gasped out. He sank to his knees beside the boy, breath caught in his throat as he reached out to pull some bloodied bangs from his face. "No…"   
  
How could this happen?   
  
  
  
  
  
Harry struggled through the thick fog that seemed to possess his mind. His body felt heavy; every inch of his skin burned like someone had branded the cruicatus curse into him. There was a tightness in his chest, each breath sent streaks of pain in his body. Distantly, he could feel a cool hand on his brow.   
  
"Dad?" he asked, but his voice came out in a strangled croak   
  
There was a soft rustle beside him and a pause, as if the person beside him was afraid to speak.   
  
"Harry?" a voice finally said close to his ear.   
  
It was familiar, but not his father; Harry was too tired to think much about it.   
  
There was a soft rustle of cloth. Harry had a vague idea of the person shifting beside him, and a hand pulling him away from the cold, jagged surface. But the movement jostled his ribs and sent flashes of pain through his body. Harry cried out in protest.   
  
"No, stop…" his voice came out in a choked whimper.   
  
The hands released him quickly. "Harry, it's Sirius."   
  
_Sirius? _   
  
That caught Harry's attention as he tried to open his eyes. Everything was a wild smear of colors, and it seemed to cost too much energy. Harry closed his eyes again wearily.   
  
Smiling, Harry tried to find his voice. "Sirius?" he finally whispered, his voice thick and hoarse.   
  
Harry could feel an answering hand running through his hair, but the action seemed mostly to aimed at trying him awake. There was a lingering touch on his cheek, and when Sirius spoke again, his tone was seething. "Who did this to you?"   
  
Harry struggled through foggy memories to put his thoughts into words. But all he managed was a soft "Them."   
  
"Who?"   
  
Harry shook his head weakly. He wished Sirius would stop asking questions. He was too tired. He just wanted to rest. But an abrupt thought cut his way into the front of his head, and Harry shivered.   
  
_ Why was Sirius here? Was he in the room again? But the ground was too rough. That didn't make any sense at all…   
  
_ "Where?" Harry choked urgently, trying to open his eyes again.   
  
"The mountain," Sirius murmured. He smoothed out the messy hair soothingly. "But I'm going to get out of here, Harry. I'm going to bring you home."   
  
Those words came to him thickly. _  
  
Sirius was here to bring him home? But his home was here. His parents were here… he didn't want to go back to the Dursleys.   
_  
Harry tried to shake his head in protest.   
  
"No…" he croaked.   
  
"No?" Sirius sounded concerned. A hand cupped the side of his face, "What are you talking about?"   
  
"Not them… Dursleys….," Harry whispered, trying to shake his head.   
  
There was a soft sigh. "Harry, you're not going back to them again. You're going to stay with Remus and I, okay?"   
  
Harry frowned, trying to make sense of his words. How could he stay with Sirius? He was still on the run. It was easier if he just stayed here with his parents, out of the way, not causing any trouble. How could he explain? How could he make him understand?   
  
Harry shook his head, feeling a bit numb. Sirius' voice was sounding more and more distant and muffled to his ears. "No… don't understand," he mumbled, words beginning to slur.   
  
There was a stunned silence; Harry could barely feel Sirius stiffening beside him. The heaviness in his body was slowly turning into numbness. His eyelids felt like solid weights, begging to fall down, and his body felt devoid of muscle. His body was screaming for rest; more than anything, he just wanted to lie back on the bed and sleep. Too weary to fight, he simply submitted to the darkness at the corners of his vision.   
  
  
  
  
  
When Harry fell limp again, Sirius could just stare at him dumbly in shock. Harry's words replayed in his head like a broken record, over and over again   
  
_ No… don't understand…   
  
_ He didn't want to go back. Harry didn't want to go back!   
  
Through the past few days, Sirius always imagined it as being a simple task. All he needed to do was find Harry and lead him home. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever think that Harry actually wanted to die.   
  
"Harry, Do you have any idea how miserable you're making us all? People are counting on you. They need you," Sirius whispered angrily.   
  
Harry made no sign of having heard him at all, leaning weakly against the jagged wall.   
  
But perhaps that was why Harry wanted to get away. With all those impossible expectations, Harry was crushed against a corner. His life was hung on strings; he couldn't go anywhere without people either hating or admiring him. This place was a relief, free from worries and concerns. But Sirius couldn't bring himself to let Harry go.   
  
Slowly, he gathered the boy into his arms, wincing when he brushed the stiff, blood caked clothes. Harry needed medical care, but there was no way he could give it to him. He need to get him out, or find help quickly.   
  
A small shower of dirt and rocks caught Sirius' attention. Looking up, a shadow of a man came into view. Instinctively, Sirius pulled into the shadows, trying to keep his godson hidden, but that obviously wasn't enough.   
  
There was a sharp gasp, and then "Harry!"   
  
The voice was familiar; but Sirius couldn't place it. It stirred thickly in his memories. There was a loud thump, as if he had just jumped down from some distance above, and rapid footsteps approaching.   
  
"Harry!" the man called desperately, running towards the large patch of dried blood.   
  
Sirius tried to back away out of sight, but Harry made a small moan of pain. The man spun around, face hidden by the overhang of dead branches that partially hid Sirius from view. From the angry stance of the man, Sirius didn't need any more convincing to draw his wand. Harry made a small sound of protest as his body was jostled, and the man echoed it with a cry of fury.   
  
"Put him down!" the man hissed angrily.   
  
Instinctively, Sirius pulled Harry closer, wrapping him with a fold of his cloak.   
  
Without warning, a streak of white light brushed his hair and sent strands of razor sharp rocks raining through the air. Sirius bent over the unconscious boy , trying to shield him as best as possible. He was fuming by the time the dust cleared. What was he thinking? The man could have hurt Harry.   
  
Sirius pointed his wand, ignorant of the stones that cut into his skin, throwing a couple of well aimed hexes his way. But the man was surprisingly nimble as he dodged.   
  
Grabbing the distraction, Sirius trudged deeper between the thin row of dead trees, growing flush against the cliff face. The terrain was rough and his movements slow. Sirius inwardly winced as his jerky steps wretched a whimper of pain from Harry.   
  
"_Stupefy_!"   
  
Sirius ducked out of the way just as a burning red streak ripped a shallow cut in his cheek. He didn't stop to retaliate. It was too dangerous with Harry as a burden and the enemy following so close behind. He scrambled through the small crevasses between gnarled trucks and brittle branches. A hidden root snagged his foot. With a muffled groan, Sirius slammed into the ground, Harry landing limply beside him.   
  
The footsteps echoed from the rocks, pounding loudly on the rough floor.   
  
"You… you bastard….," the stranger snarled.   
  
Sirius was surprised by the anger it seemed to convey. Instinctively, he wrapped an arm around Harry, shifting in front of the unconscious boy defensively.   
  
"Stop right there or I'll hex you!" Sirius shouted warningly, raising his wand.   
  
The man stopped abruptly. Sirius could hear deep, raspy breaths as if he was trying hard to suppress fury.   
  
"He's… he's just a boy! I can't believe you all. Don't you have any morals?" the man hissed.   
  
Sirius blinked in surprise. "What are you talking about?" he asked in bewilderment.   
  
"Don't hurt him. I don't care what you do, just don't hurt him." there was a odd pleading tone in the man's voice that threw Sirius off completely.   
  
The man was afraid to approach because he thought he was using Harry as a hostage? All this time, Sirius was running away from someone who meant no harm. But he couldn't hide the surge of indignation at even the suggestion he meant to hurt Harry.   
  
"I not going to hurt Harry. I'll never do that!" Sirius growled defensively.   
  
"Well then I suggest you better give my son back…"   
  
But Sirius had stopped listening after that.   
  
_ Son…?_   
  
"James?" Sirius choked out.   
  
  
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
  
  
Ack, it's probably not very clear but Harry fell over the cliff and went smack, but crawled away from his original location. Donnuo why I made him do that though...   
  
Wah! A cliffe! Tilly and MercS are going to kill me!! And so will Shayla and Keara and Evie and... wah!! *hides* Oh, I was mean to Harry huh. That means I have to delete chapter 18. He gets beaten up **again**. But that was such a waste of my 3 hours!! Urg! Oh well, it was a little too much though. But... what do you think?   
  
oh no, googoo4you is going to kill me! I have... uhh... a LOT more cliffies to come. As for your suggestions, well, to tell you the truth, I don't know why I made James guess. It was suppose to show something about his personality. It didn't work out very well did it *hides* As for the Death Eaters, remember, they're in Voldermort's wand. There hadn't been any new Death Eaters for 13 years. The old ones are pretty much scattered already. I have a full explination in chapter 18 about why the Death Eaters hate Harry so much, but I might delete it because Harry gets beaten again there (it's getting old, I mean, 5 chapters... really too much). You're free to vote on that though, since I already took the effort of writing it.   
  
This is the ultimate contradiction to Murphy's law. You know, these events are so nicely placed together, ack. I wasn't planning to reveal James and Lily until the very end, but then I realized Sirius would be completely lost. So I had three options, give them Diggle again who Sirius doesn't even trust (I hate creating new characters though), give them Cedric who would probably try to kill Sirius with Harry out cold, or give them James who if I didn't incorporate, I'd have to describe what happened to him. Urg.   
  
You know, I didn't plan the story past this point. Everything after this chapter is a bunch of hit and misses, really stupid, isn't it? Ack…   
  
Which also means, the next chapter is going to break the code of 1 chapter per 2 days. It's being held back until everything runs smoothly. I'm sorry!!   
  
Thanks for all those wonderful reviews!! Everyone likes James - Harry bonding better, humm… what about Sirius - Harry bonding? I can't do Lily - Harry bonding, that becomes overkill (also, I have a hard time doing it psychologically. Little boys like their dads, right? I mean, little boys always look up to their dads. So I think Harry will work better with his father, Lily is like this huge block for me, although I can still try. But then, that means, no sequel *cackle* I'm evil arent i? I'm making everyone choose sequel over Lily 'cause I like that better. Muhahaha!!). First his godfather, then the father, then the mother? Ack! This story will be… at least 40 chapters then! I've already lengthened it to 28, and I haven't even started on the epilogue. Oh crud.   
  



	15. cheating a friend

Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.   
  
a/n see bottom. Before you read, I owe everyone a very, very sincere apology for the length of this chapter. I had purposely chopped it since this was where I intended to splice in Draco and Remus' view, and since everyone insisted that it was unnecessary, I never added anything to it. But the next chapter is not yet ready, and I have a vague idea no one wants to wait any longer. So here is the two page long, choppy, not complete interactions between James and Sirius, continued in chapter 15. I'm sorry!!   
  
Another thing I have to clear up. I think I mentioned this before, and obviously I did a very poor job of explaining it before hand in the story, but Sirius is only there to guide Harry. He doesn't bring anyone back to life. And Harry's the only one with enough power to have that opportunity open for him. So now, on with the story!   
  
  
  
**Cheating Death**  
By neutral   
  
  
  
Chapter fourteen - cheating a friend   
  
  
  
"You… you know me?" The voice of his old friend was suddenly frighteningly familiar. The innocent confusion of his friend would have made him laugh aloud at his Hogwarts years.   
  
Sirius leaned against the rocks heavily as the man hesitantly approached. His face came into view through a crack between the branches, and both men froze.   
  
Sirius seemed to have lost his voice; he could only stare at his old friend, face still young like the man he remembered fourteen years ago. His face was deathly pale, and his hair was more ruffled than usual. Blood stained the side of his face, but he didn't notice.   
  
Sirius watched numbly as the remaining color drained from his friend's face, his hand trembling.   
  
"Sirius?" James whispered slowly. He rushed towards him shakily, not taking his eyes from his face   
  
Sirius gave into a shaky smile, the small weight against his arms the only thing keeping from running forward and suffocating James with hug.   
  
James dropped to his knees beside him, "Padfoot, don't tell me you died too."   
  
Sirius broke then; he could feel the bubble of emotions cracking as he threw an arm around his friend to give him an awkward hug, Harry nested uncomfortably between them. "Did you have any idea how much we all missed you, Prongs?"   
  
James returned to embrace full force; it was only when Harry cried out in pain that he pulled away.   
  
"Harry needs medical attention," Sirius said quickly, mentally hitting himself for momentarily forgetting.   
  
James shook his head, "We don't need it. We all heal quickly, Harry will be sore and weak for a bit with injuries like that though," he looked pained at the red stains, touching a streak of dried blood on his face lightly. "Oh god, I'm going to kill them."   
  
"Who? Who did this to him?" Sirius asked, wrapping an arm around his godson protectively.   
  
"Dead supporters of Voldermort out for revenge," James hissed. "They were looking for Harry since they caught wind of his arrival. They cornered us last night and knocked me out. I just woke up a few minutes ago. He's just a child! God, I am going to kill them," he scowled angrily.   
  
Sirius sobered, any semblance of a smile stolen when he heard James' explanation. He contemplated Harry's peaceful countenance, marred only by the bold blotches of dried blood caked on his face. These troubles seemed to follow Harry everywhere, plaguing him even in death. The poor boy was doomed not to have a moments peace.   
  
James was silent as well. But another thought clouded his face and he stared at Sirius with concern. "Padfoot, how did you die?"   
  
Sirius shook his head. "I didn't. I came here with a charm to get Harry."   
  
He gave his friend a brief summary of Dumbledore's words, and when he was finished, the James was speechless. He shook his head, smiling with a mixture of relief and hope.   
  
"So Harry can still live," he said, pulling some strands of hair from his son's face, fingers lingering on the oddly shaped scar.   
  
Sirius sobered, "James, Harry doesn't want to go back. I think he wants to stay here with you and Lily."   
  
"That's bull," James said with disbelief. "How can Harry want to die?"   
  
Sirius sighed, "I'm sorry, James. I did a terrible job taking care of him. Harry's life was nothing short of miserable there. I'm not surprised he wants to stay."   
  
"But he's in danger here!" James shot back, standing up sharply. "He can't stay; he'll be constantly preyed on."   
  
"James, Harry's preyed on back there too! Only a month ago, Voldermort kidnapped him, and he barely escaped alive. Harry probably was hit by more cruicatus curses in a year than you in your whole life. Not to mention the kind of treatment he gets from the Dursleys. Maybe its better for him to stay here, where he has a family who can be there for him," Sirius didn't know why he was suddenly trying to convince James to let Harry stay. But as he spoke, he couldn't help but to admit Harry would be happier here. Perhaps it would be better if he just let Harry go…   
  
James had gone still at Sirius' words. He stared at his friend, eyes wide, but it soon became clouded with pain and regret when he looked down at his son.   
  
"That happened to him?" he asked softly. "I noticed Harry was really silent last night. He looked almost scared…" he sighed, sitting down beside his friend heavily. "He wouldn't tell me anything about his life. He wouldn't even tell me how he died. He just kept saying it wasn't your fault," James smiled weakly at his friend. "Harry is very fond of you."   
  
Sirius choked, vision blurring in his eyes again. He pulled Harry closer, resting his head on the mop of wild hair, a habit that somehow stuck three days ago. "It was my fault, Prongs. Harry died because he took the avada kedavra for me."   
  
  
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
  
  
You know, from this chapter to chapter 28, every single chapter is a cliffe but 2. I don't know how it happened, considering I usually write my story and then crop it later, but I guess it did, *eep!*   
  
Ack! I feel like the boy who cried wolf with all my ranting about how horrible the rest of the story is compared to the beginning, but that's because I'm serious!! But I'll shut up until I post the rest and you can all see for yourselves how much I suck *hides*   
  
SiriusBPadfoot - my chapters are becoming more cliffe like? *grins* Yay! I have achieved my goal! I mean… oh, but I already post my chapters every two days though. Well, I could post it every day soon 'cause I'm done with the entire story, including all the added scenes and everything. But if you insist… *cackle* I'm just kidding   
  
Taracollowen - thank you!   
  
Tilly & MercS - wow… you're not angry! Yay! *runs around excitedly* don't worry, this chapter was posted within two days! See? *hides some food in the closest for later cliffes just incase*   
  
Lin-z - yeah, it turns out she does make a very small appearance. But it's a horrible menace trying to balance James and Sirius without being too biased and remaining true to their characters. I'm afraid everything after chapter 19 takes a rather downhill turn.   
  
Vmr - thanks!   
  
Anonymous - really? Wow! It's my first HP fic that I actually wrote past chapter 2. Thanks!   
  
Kay - well… true. But I still feel a bit guilty. Ooo.. Cliffe! Well… it's your suggestion, so I'm holding you accountable if anyone wants to kill me!   
  
Mihoshe - it's coming! Really it is!   
  
Lord Amber - wow! Amazing poem, I can't write poetry for the death of me… wah *is green with envy* Thanks for such a wonderful poem!   
  
Hermione45695 - I will!   
  
Pampered Tigress - Thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   
  
Keara Jordan - yeah, I was afraid that Lily and James both fretting over Harry's past at two different times of the story would be overkill. And James is so much cooler considering his friendship with Sirius and his past reputation *grin*   
  
Madelaine - uhh… but… but…   
  
Rowan - yup! Here is it! Wow… everyone seems to love James more.   
  
Tsuki tatsu - don't worry, I know what you mean! But I just love detail… oh no! it's going to take forever… *groans*   
  
Leigh - yup!! Here it is!   
  
Sherylyn - well, at least dead people can heal faster. I plan to use that to my full extent *cackles evilly* Harry can take a lot more physically than emotionally though.   
  
Shichan Goddess - thanks!! Well… as for Harry dying… that's a secret! *grin*   
  
Gwen - you're making me hungry!   
  
Gaby - that was what I was worried about. It doesn't seem to further the plot very much. Urg. That's because the beginning of this story is so much better than the end. I'm living in horrible fear that I'll disappoint everyone. *cries*   
  
Kat - noo! Don't be mad! *hides and offers a candy bar*   
  
Nicky - I will! Yeah, I'm glad James came in too… otherwise I'd be horribly guilty   
  
Connie - well, that's a secret! I'm not telling what the sequel will be about. But Lily will be in here, just… not as much. Sorry!   
  
Hippy Flower - yeah! It's really sad, how Sirius's bond to Harry is attached because of guilt and Harry is attached because he needs a parent. Wah!   
  
Phoenix - you're welcome!! I hope you enjoy this chapter… however short….   
  
Starlight - I will!   
  
Iris - okay! Chapter 18 has been severely edited though, but Harry still gets beaten up. Oops   
  
JLBGirl - I'm sorry! It's too tempting!   
  
Allocin - yup, the Death Eaters are really a pain! Well, things will never be easy for Harry *laughs evilly* He's going to be in a lot of trouble soon *hint hint*   
  
Lady Aquila - here it is! Or.. Part of it   
  
Lily Potter - She'll come! I'm guessing… about… wow… a long way from now… urg… sorry!   
  
Bumblebee Bucy - thanks! I hope I don't disappoint you anytime soon! Ack… *cackle* doesn't hurt to beat him up. Yes! I agree!   
  
Moppet Puppet - yup! Harry went smack! *grins* woah! No more sugar for you! *offers caffeine pills instead* Yeah, I changed chapter 18 (now 20 though) so Harry won't get beaten up too badly…   
  
Shayla - if I die, I can't write or post! Don't kill me yet!! And you have to review! Tell me what you think!   
  
Googoo4you - lots of cliffes then? *grins* partners in crime!   
  
Miss ice - but its so tempting…   
  
Who Knows - well, that is an idea. I have her playing not much of a large part though… she doesn't have Harry by himself like James and Sirius do. Ack… I don't know if I can keep it up! After I read the rest, it doesn't seem as good as the beginning. Noooooo….   
  
Sandrine Black - I didn't notice until you pointed it out to me! Wow… James is a vicious guy isn't he?   
  
Tasha - thanks!!   
  
padfoots girl - I will!   
  
Sparks - *cackle* I'm EVIL! *runs in circles*   
  
1212121 - *grin* that's a secret   
  
Nacasara - uhh… are you alright? *looks concerned* maybe I should have less cliffe's since they're bad for our health…   
  



	16. cheating a friend yet again

Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.   
  
a/n see bottom. To apologize for such a short chapter, chapter 15 is posted in a day! Umm… sorry, I can't post everyday (I know I know! I said it but… I was… uhh… joking? Wah! *dodges eggs*). Time constraints during the weekday, please forgive me!! Pleaasee! But... I'm not that evil... at least I don't post every other week, right? *hides*   
  
I know that was a bad place to chop a chapter, but I already divided the chapters and there was really no place to put that chunk without messing all my other chapters up. Okay! Fine! I admit it... I was lazy... *cries*   
  
  
  
**Cheating Death**  
By neutral   
  
  
  
Chapter fifteen - cheating a friend yet again   
  
  
  
"What?" James asked softly, making an obvious effort to restrain himself. He sat up stiffly to meet Sirius' gaze. His brown eyes were hard with a mixture of anger and disbelief.   
  
Sirius turned away, unable to face his friend. How could he? He had killed James' only son when all he ever asked from him was to keep him safe. He had shattered everything.   
  
"Sirius!" James seized Sirius' shoulder, twisting him around to face him. There was a frantic glint in his face, his voice harsh. "Tell me. Tell me what happened!"   
  
Sirius averted his gaze, unable to meet the piercing eyes. After years of friendship, he repaid them by talking their lives and sacrificing the life of their only son. He could only guess the thoughts of anger and treachery passing through James' mind.   
  
"I was stupid, I was careless! I got captured only a week after the tournament," Sirius said, almost to himself. "Harry dreamt about it, he knew where I was. He knew I was in trouble. He hid his invisibility cloak and broom and let himself get caught so he could trade himself for me," Sirius choked on his words, hiding his face in Harry's hair; it was like he was back at Remus' guest bedroom with Harry's icy body in his arms. "But I didn't leave. Voldermort fought him; Harry was completely outnumbered, and I couldn't do anything! I probably made things worse…"   
  
Beside him, James froze. The knuckles around his fist were white and bloodless as he clutched his wand.   
  
"You know what I did, James?" Sirius whispered. "I tried to kill him! I broke his arm and tried to choke him, and he almost died! Even Harry's stronger than me. He would have resisted the imperious curse easily, but me? I completely fell under it. By the time I broke it, he could barely move! And then he died when he blocked the killing curse, all to save me. James, it was completely my fault!"   
  
All the color drained from James' face. The hand against his shoulder slacked, and all the strength seemed to sap from his body. He sank back down heavily.   
  
James was silent for a long time, he was afraid of speaking, fearful that his words would betray that hidden frustration. He kept his expression unreadable as he stared out at the trees below. There was a tense silence between the two, where James stared out unseeingly from the cliff, and Sirius held Harry close to him, both lost in their own thoughts. A soft moan caught their attention; Harry shifted slightly, cracking an eye open.   
  
"Harry?" Sirius asked tentatively.   
  
Harry squinted, turning his head in his godfather's direction. His voice sounded strained as he spoke, and he coughed weakly, "Glasses…"   
  
"Here," Sirius shuffled through his pocket, drawing out a hand full of plastic and broken glass. There were repaired with a tap of his wand, and he slipped them on Harry's face.   
  
Harry blinked as the world came sharply into focus. He looked around disorientedly for a minute before his eyes widened in shock.   
  
"Sirius!" he gasped out, struggling to sit up. Sirius pushed him back insistently, but Harry caught his wrist, grasping it with a surprisingly strong hold. "This isn't the room! What are you…," he broke off, coughing raggedly.   
  
Sirius held him still, unnerved by his reaction. "Harry, its alright," he said as reassuringly as possible.   
  
"No!" Harry retorted, sounding amazingly determined for someone so wasted. "You're not suppose to be here. You're suppose to be alive!," Harry glared, but the glazed expression looked delirious. His tone was pleading when he spoke again. "Sirius, what did you do?"   
  
Sirius felt a brief stab of guilt and pain for the concern Harry shown towards him. He extracted his wrist slowly, forcing him to lie back down. "It's a charm," he said as soothingly as he could. "I came to see you. I'm not dead, so don't worry, okay?"   
  
Harry stared at him with a piercingly; it was hard to tell whether he believed it or not. But with James watching their exchange silently, Sirius couldn't help but feel blameworthy for stealing all his son's affection. What could be going on in his mind? he couldn't help but wonder. To feel anger at his friend for being the cause of his son's death, only to have his son throw it back at him.   
  
"Look who else is here, Harry," Sirius said gently, helping him into a sitting position.   
  
There was confusion in his face, as if Harry wasn't completely coherent. Sirius was sure if he was wide awake and thinking clearly, he would never have let the subject of the charm drop. But instead, Harry showed no bafflement at seeing his father, only undiluted delight and excitement.   
  
"Dad?" Harry smiled brightly, and James couldn't help but smile back.   
  
"How are you feeling?" he asked, fondly pushing some stray hair from Harry's eyes.   
  
Harry closed his eyes again, leaning back into Sirius' embrace, almost as if the entire endeavor was too tiring for him. "Alright…"   
  
James looked at Harry disapprovingly for the rather blatant lie, knowing that his son couldn't see. But his expression soon softened again, replaced by concern, "We need to get Harry out of here. We can't apparate in this place, and my house is too far north for us to travel in Harry's condition. There's a small cottage downhill that belongs to Thomas…"   
  
"No!" Harry's eyes snapped open. He tried to sit again with difficulty. "Not Thomas, he's…" Harry broke off, words interrupted by coughs that raked his body. Sirius patted his back soothingly, James blinked in surprise.   
  
"Harry, we can't stay here," James said.   
  
Harry shook his head angrily, still trying to control his coughs. "No! Not Thomas…"   
  
James frowned, "Harry, are you alright?"   
  
"No!" Harry gasped out. "Thomas is…"   
  
"James, Harry doesn't usually jump to conclusions unless he as a reason," Sirius said, turning to James worriedly. "Is there somewhere else we can stay?"   
  
James looked at Sirius questioningly. But under Sirius' insistent stare, James reluctantly nodded.   
  
"We can go to Diggle's. He's not that much further."   
  
Harry groaned audibly, murmuring something about a "Humble Lockhart" that made Sirius chuckle.   
  
"Lockhart? Wasn't he that blockhead four years below us?" James asked, raising an eyebrow at their exchange.   
  
"He became quite the celebrity and tried to use Harry as publicity back in second year, or so I heard," Sirius said. "I don't know any of the details though, but Harry absolutely detested him."   
  
"Not that much…" Harry mumbled, giving his godfather a small smile.   
  
James shook his head, amused. "Okay, there's another residence, but it'll take a much longer walk. I don't know him very well; from what I've heard, he's rather young and wasn't here very long. Diggory, I think his name is."   
  
Both Sirius and Harry had gone pale at his statement. Harry was rigid, eyes wider than James thought would be possible, with an empty gaze in them that sent a shiver down his spine. Sirius looked at him, troubled.   
  
"Cedric?" Harry whispered, a tremor audible in his voice.   
  
"You know him?"   
  
"Perhaps we better go to Diggle's," Sirius cut in sharply.   
  
"No," Harry struggled weakly to turn towards his father again. There was desperation in his voice. "Cedric's here. I have to see him!"   
  
James listened them blankly; there was something that he didn't know, something that concerned Harry. Sirius, catching James' expression, shook his head   
  
"Sirius, don't you understand?" Harry gasped out. "I have to…"   
  
"Harry, just calm down for a moment!" Sirius pushed his godson back down, keeping a firm hand against his shoulder. But James forced him out of the way roughly.   
  
"Stop! You could be hurting him," he snapped angrily. But one glance at Sirius' face, James realized he must have struck him in a way he never imagined. Sirius' blue eyes were wide with horror, looking as if someone had just stabbed him and twisted the knife in his gut.   
  
At the slight hesitation, Harry pulled away, stumbling on the rocky floor on unsteady feet. By some miracle, he managed to stay standing, face contorted in pain and legs shaking under the weight. James barred the path quickly, catching Harry when he swayed too far forward, unnerved by the wild glint in his son's eyes.   
  
"I have to see him!" Harry shot back, the cough returning full force. "I have to see… how he's doing. Tell him…" he broke off again, trembling. He leaned against James heavily, squeezing his eyes shut as he gasped for breath between each cough.   
  
"Harry, stop, that's enough," Sirius looked at him with concern.   
  
"Harry, we'll go to Cedric's," James said, mostly to pacify him.   
  
Harry nodded jerkily, face buried in James' robes, breath coming in short gasps as he trembled with the force of his coughs. Sirius patted his back soothingly, but it seemed only to aggravate him. Sighing in defeat, James drew out his wand and Harry fell forward lifelessly.   
  
"Harry!" Sirius practically shoved James aside as he caught his godson, looking at the closed eyes and limp body with alarm.   
  
"Padfoot, it's okay. It's just a sleeping charm. It'll wear off in an hour," James picked himself off the ground, pointedly glaring at his friend.   
  
Sirius relaxed visibly, and James couldn't help but catch the look of complete and pure affection as if he child he held was his own son. Harry was important to him, much more important than himself in his eyes. Sirius had never wanted Harry to die, but it was never within his own control.   
  
And yet…   
  
James bit his lip, unable to hide a flicker of anger towards his friend for failing to protect the one person both he and Lily died for. They had begged that of him. They had given him that burden. But at the sight of Sirius, normally composed and full of life and energy reduced into a wan, haunted man, he couldn't seem to keep it.   
  
"Sirius," James knelt down beside his friend, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I don't blame you."   
  
  
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
  
  
Just in case anyone wonders, Harry doesn't know he has a chance yet. I didn't handle that conversation well. Ack.   
  
Yes! Candies for Keara! *dances* It's a secret why you get them though *wink wink* You'll see soon though   
  
But that's because the first few chapters are good. Gaby's too kind! I'll disappoint everyone with the middle chapters. I actually like the ending though *smiles evilly*   
  
Don't worry Tilly & MercS! Tons of Sirius coming up soon. He's one of my favorite characters too *grins*   
  
Oh, I almost forgot! I'll mail the chapters to you in html format soon Lily! Sorry!   
  
Umm.. Is the chapter really that short? But hey, I post a lot more than most authors! If I really wanted to torture you, I'd post then leave for two weeks. *nudge nudge*   
  
Not a cliffe! See? See?   
  
Umm… my dog is making weird gurgling noises. Uh oh.   
  



	17. cheating a little peace

Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.   
  
a/n see bottom.   
  
  
  
**Cheating Death  
** By neutral   
  
  
  
Chapter sixteen - cheating a little peace   
  
  
  
As James led the way down the mountain, Sirius burdened by Harry's weight, he filled him in on the past few years of Harry's life. Sirius never heard the complete stories, only bits and pieces of what happened each year from what he picked up from various teachers here and there, and Remus' history of Defense teachers. But even so, they were a good distance from the mountain with the sun high above their heads by the time he finished.   
  
"Diggory died at the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament?" James asked quietly.   
  
Sirius nodded, instinctively, pulling the sleeping boy closer. "It was a bad idea. We should go to Diggle's. Harry was haunted by his death for weeks. It completely changed him."   
  
"Voldermort caught him… used his blood to resurrect himself… tortured him…," James whispered, looking distant.   
  
James shuddered, the color draining from his face. He seemed to be trying to envision that moment of horror. James was silent for a long time, his face unreadable as he stared at the ground in front of him.   
  
"I've missed a lot, haven't I?" he finally said, his voice soft.   
  
Sirius sighed, "We all did. But Harry managed; he's strong, much stronger than me."   
  
James looked at his son, nested comfortably in his best friend's arm sadly. There was a lot that his son had been through, he couldn't help but feel a mixture of pride and regret. Proud that his son had managed to stand tall despite all the pain, regretful that he had to stand without a family to call his own.   
  
"He's not really a little boy anymore, is he?" James said with a weak smile. "All this time, I thought he was just an innocent victim thrown into the Land of the Dead, when Harry had faced this risk for years. I'm a terrible father, aren't I? I don't even know anything about my own son."   
  
Sirius shook his head angrily. "You've never had a choice."   
  
But James couldn't ignore that cold grip of doubt in the back of his mind. He turned his gaze to the small form, wondering how such a tainted past could belong to such an innocent child. But there was a flicker of envy as he watched Harry sleeping peacefully against his godfather. James would have accepted even all the years of Akzaban to take Sirius' place just to watch his son grow. But he couldn't. Sirius was there, and Harry seemed to trust him even more than his own father.   
  
Sirius seemed to notice the wistful expression on his face, but didn't understand the depth of it. He shifted the weight in his arms again, looking at James apologetically.   
  
"Could you take him? I'm getting a bit tired."   
  
It was obvious that was not the reason with the reluctance that Sirius slipped the boy into his arms, but James took Harry eagerly, turning so that Harry's head rested comfortably against his chest. He paused in surprise when he noted the lightness of his frame, and the ridges of the ribs that poked into his arms through Harry's oversized shirt.   
  
"Petunia never feeds him, does she? Harry looks starved," James grumbled angrily, wrapping a hand around a narrow wrist to prove his point.   
  
"Don't know. I heard she had her son on a diet last year and made the whole household live off grapefruit. Ron told me Harry wrote to him begging for food. I don't know about this year though," Sirius muttered, frowning at the memory. "There's a lot of things Harry isn't telling any of us."   
  
James looked at his son's face again, inwardly wincing at the dark rings around his eyes. He was too young to be burdened with this, he thought angrily. But…   
  
"Sirius, Harry can't stay," James said firmly. "I know Harry dying is the last thing you want, don't lie about it."   
  
Sirius was surprised by the sudden change of topic, but he sobered quickly, "Harry wants to stay. If Harry doesn't want to leave, there's no way he can."   
  
"Then we'll convince him. You have no idea how many people will jump at a chance Harry has…"   
  
"No one's ever lived a life like Harry's," Sirius snapped defensively.   
  
"Sirius!" James raised his voice slightly, making Harry squirm. "Do you want Harry to die?"   
  
Sirius paled, "Of course not…"   
  
"Good, because I don't either. Harry may be happy that Lily and I are here, but this place won't be enough," James said, looking at the boy in his arms fondly. "He'll enjoy the first few days, weeks, even months here, then this place will be like a prison. There's nothing here but trees and a stupid mountain, for god's sake, it's boring! Harry will want something more. He'll wish that he took the chance to leave. If Harry's anything like the boy you've described with all those years at Hogwarts, he won't be satisfied with just sitting around with his mum and dad for the rest of eternity."   
  
"This place can't be too bad…"   
  
"Yeah, that's what I thought at first. But after the first eight years, Lily was desperate enough to take up quittich to kill time," James grumbled bitterly. "If Lily wasn't here, I'd probably be pretty far gone."   
  
Despite the serious tone of the statement, Sirius choked back a laugh, looking at James in disbelief.   
  
"Quittich? Lily played quittich? You're kidding," Sirius coughed that sounded suspiciously like inhaled laughter.   
  
James couldn't help but grin. "She was bored," James shook his head at the memory, expression darkening again. "Sirius, promise me you'll bring Harry home."   
  
Sirius returned James' gaze unwaveringly, but hesitated to answer. Finally, he nodded, eyes dropping from James' face to Harry, still peacefully sleeping.   
  
"I'll try," he said softly.   
  
James nodded, satisfied with his friend's response.   
  
"But don't keep reminding him, James. You'll make Harry feel obligated to do something rash," Sirius added, giving his friend a glare.   
  
"Is Harry really that…?" James trailed off when Sirius sighed.   
  
"You have no idea, James. And the scary part is you won't know until Harry's already done it," Sirius rubbed his face in frustration. "Harry's never had a parental figure in his life, and he isn't used to sharing his secrets. He really wants a family, James. You and Lily are the people he saw in the Mirror of Erisd."   
  
"Really?" James asked, but his voice had a violent tremor that logged the word in his throat. James hugged his son closer, watching the youthful face that blocked hid a mature young man from sight. He couldn't help but feel a sense of relief at how much he meant to his son even at his absence.   
  
"James," Sirius spoke up suddenly, blue eyes unusually serious. "Did you ever hate me for taking my suggestion? Did you ever regret making Wormtail your secret keeper?"   
  
_ Did you ever blame me?   
  
_ Those words were unspoken, but it hung silently between them. How much did that haunt him? James wondered. How many times did he ask that over and over again in his cell? The years of acquaintance had given him a full understanding of Sirius' character; his friend took every insult on him as his own. He must have been furious when they died, driven almost to insanity so that revenge was the only thing he dreamt of. He could hardly imagine what life was like for him those days, and the years after.   
  
James sighed inwardly. Did Sirius ever understand? Those hours after his death, he tortured himself endlessly with worry. Fear for Sirius' well being, knowing how his friend could be lost without him. Guilt for Remus, for ever doubting him. He hadn't even thought about Peter. True, he felt betrayed, but it wasn't blind rage. His worst loss was his son, never his own life. He had always wondered why Harry never came. He had always hoped, and when he heard the story thirteen years later…   
  
James met his friend's gaze unflinchingly. "Sirius, it was a good thing that we made Pettigrew our secret keeper."   
  
"What?!" Sirius growled out, eyes narrowing with disbelief.   
  
"No, look at it from my point of view. If you had been our secret keeper, would that still mean we'd be alive? You could have been tortured to death. We probably would still be dead, knowing how determined he was to get rid of us. And if Harry had never defeated him, then hundreds, maybe thousands more would have timed. This was for the best," James said calmly.   
  
Sirius opened his mouth and closed it again, at a loss for words. The frustration and disbelief mixing in his eyes spoke loudly that he disagreed, but the shock of hearing his friend contradict him so openly stole his words.   
  
"How can you say that?" Sirius finally hissed. "You've been betrayed, James! You lost your life. And Harry had his completely ripped apart and destroyed before he followed! How can you be so apathetic?"   
  
"I'm not apathetic!" James shot back, barely restraining himself from yelling. "I wished countless times to just see my son once, just once! I wish things happened differently for Harry," James drew a deep breath, cradling the boy against his chest. He anger was replaced by an overwhelming sense of sadness and regret as he stared at his friend. "But I'm not vengeful of dying. What you and Harry went through was worse. I wish I could give those years back to you, Sirius."   
  
Sirius looked pained. "James…"   
  
"No, Lily and I dragged you into this position. All you wanted to do was protect us."   
  
"But I failed!"   
  
"You're not god, Sirius! You can't do everything right!"   
  
"Yes, but you died for it!"   
  
James sighed aloud. "Sirius, twelve years with a bunch of trees is far better than twelve years with dementors. If you were the one dead and I was in Akzaban, you would say the same thing."   
  
Sirius paused, eyes turned to James searchingly. It was impossible to decide what was passing through his mind. James was reluctant to guess; the shadow in his friend's blue eyes made him realize how much Sirius had changed over the years. He was no longer the arrogant, self-assured boy who teased his way into everyone's hearts. But suddenly, Sirius broke into a small smile.   
  
"Since when were you so philosophical?" he grunted, shattering the tension between the two.   
  
James mirrored his smile, relief running through his face. "Trees do that to you."   
  
They walked in a comfortable silence, both lost in their own thoughts as they followed the worn forest path. James felt considerably better at finally getting those words off his mind; he had waited for years to beat some sense into Sirius. It wasn't that hard to guess, knowing his friend's character, that he would blame himself. But James had to wonder if any of those words made its way into Sirius' stained conscience.   
  
  
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
  
  
Cheese. Cliché. What else do I need to say?   
  
Oh no, looks like everyone wants Harry to speak to Cedric. But I didn't write that. In fact, Cedric only has one scene in this story, and that's with Sirius and James and a rather unconscious Harry. And he doesn't play a big part either. Oh no… I should probably add a new scene…   
  
Thanks for all those great reviews! Wow… broke the 400 mark. Keep reviewing, it helps me write faster, it really does! Eep, Love it, you're very enthusiastic! Oh crud, I can't reply to these reviews in this chapter either. Hafta finish a research paper due tomorrow and I haven't even started!! *wails*   
  
Another note. I'll be traveling this week, so there's a possibility that I wouldn't be able to post. I might be able to get a chapter up before I fly, but I'm not sure. Sorry!!   
  



	18. cheating misunderstanding

Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.   
  
a/n umm… I have bad news. Something very bad, very, very, very, very, very bad happened. I brought my laptop to the trip and hooked it up to an T1 line for researching during the trip (it wasn't actually something for fun. A bunch of conferencing and debating, ack). And I ended up with a virus of some sort on my hard drive. Last night, I had to reboot my entire computer, so guess what? The story went poof!! And I was sort of done too! Well… sort of, considering I was rewriting five different chapters, but still! Urg! Well… oh well… damn. Don't worry, I won't stop this story just because of some stupid computer error (I will not give it that satisfaction! Grr…). Since it's already been written before, it shouldn't take that long. Maybe this time, it'll be better… ok, I'm trying very hard to convince myself not to bash my laptop to pieces… *sigh* and it's not working.   
  
I should have done this a long time ago, but I kept forgetting! Ack! Ok, this chapter is dedicated to Firefairy for reviewing every single chapter all in one day (uhh.. I know that was like two weeks ago, but I'm slow… *hides*)! Thank you!!   
  
  
  
**Cheating Death**  
By neutral   
  
  
  
Chapter seventeen - cheating misunderstandings   
  
  
  
James watched his friend out of the corner of his eye, catching another worried glance that Sirius threw at the small form nested in his arms. James had to smile at the blatant concern he displayed to a child completely not his own.   
  
"You should get married, Padfoot. Have some kids. I think you'd enjoy fatherhood," James said quietly.   
  
Sirius grunted, "Like anyone would marry an ex-convict."   
  
"But you're cleared! Find a girl, have some fun," James grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye.   
  
Sirius sighed, shaking his head. "Watch it, Harry could be listening. What'll you do if Lily heard?"   
  
James made a face, "You've become an old man. Remember, back then, we always used to say you'd be the first to have a crowd of children."   
  
"Yeah, out of wedlock," despite his words, Sirius smiled wistfully. "Besides, you beat me to having the first kid."   
  
"Harry always seemed to like you better though," James made his tone teasing, but a flicker of bitterness stirred in the back of his mind. Harry always seemed to side with Sirius when he was a child, and he seemed to side with him when he was older. The face of his son, twisted with a grimace of pain, but so desperately frightened by the prospect of Sirius dying sent a stab of pain in his stomach. It was almost as if his own son betrayed him; his godfather seemed more important to him than his father. He shook it away quickly. No, James told himself firmly, Harry should be worried about Sirius. He was afraid he had hurt himself.   
  
Sirius didn't notice the pensive frown on his friend's face. His gaze was fixed on the gleaned forest path, glowing golden from the patches of sun. His grin became even wider, "Probably because I tried to impregnate Lily, and little Harry knew the truth."   
  
James made an angry sound of protest, and Sirius laughed, dodging nimbly away in case his friend decided to do anything damaging. But his mouth curved up even more.   
  
James glared, considering Sirius thoughtfully. He examined at the sleeping boy in his arms for a moment, before breaking into a sinister smile, "Padfoot, catch."   
  
Sirius jerked to a stop, almost stumbling. Horrified, he rushed forward. "No! James, what are you…"   
  
"I was kidding! You've lost your sense of humor, Padfoot," James said, sighing dramatically. He shifted Harry weight, nestling him more securely against his shoulder almost as if he was trying to compensate for the teasing at his son's expense.   
  
Sirius frowned, "Prongs, that's your son! You can't…" he broke off, shaking his head. "Alright, that's it. Give me Harry, I don't trust you with him."   
  
"Hey, I'm his father!" James said in protest, pulling Harry closer possessively.   
  
Sirius grunted, still looking determined to steal his godson and the slightest chance. "Are you sure?"   
  
"Hey, that's…," James sputtered, looking too flustered for words.   
  
"I don't trust you with him," Sirius continued.   
  
James flushed even more, the exact reflection of a rather embarrassed Harry. "Wait, what? What sort of…." James choked on the rest of his words, looking ready to punish Sirius severely.   
  
"Remember how you almost dropped Harry on the head?" Sirius asked accusingly.   
  
"That was years ago!" James argued indignantly. "Besides, I caught him."   
  
"With the levitation charm! He almost hit the ceiling."   
  
"I was a bit desperate, okay?" James muttered, pressing Harry close against his shoulder. It was rather embarrassing to him for Sirius to bring up such topics, especially those that reminded him of his failure as a father. Those words seemed to whisper just how much he couldn't fulfill in Harry's life, and how much more Sirius meant to him, even as a child. But Sirius knew very little about his thoughts; in the presence of his old friend, the urge to tease him was too great. He didn't realize just how much James tormented himself over it.   
  
A gentle breeze rustled the trees and spread patches of sun on the closely cropped grass. Branches stirred overhead, moving strangely against the wind.   
  
James stilled, all traces of worry in his thoughts dissipating in an instant. "Oh shit."   
  
Sirius raised an eyebrow, "What?"   
  
"This is bad."   
  
"What is it?" Sirius asked, quickly catching on to the frustrated mood. He turned, scanning the area. The years of hiding had pounded the sense of caution into him, and made him unusually jumpy.   
  
"We got off the path," James grumbled, scowling at the nearest oak bitterly. "Don't worry about it, this happens a lot. Trees here like to move…"   
  
"What?!"   
  
"They move every now and then," James said offhandedly. "They're pretty good at giving directions, and they really like you, they help guide your way."   
  
Sirius threw a few suspicious glances at the trunks around him. "You've got to be kidding."   
  
"They don't attack people," James added quickly. "Here, take Harry. I need to take a look around. I think we could be lost."   
  
Sirius was momentarily distracted at the prospect of reclaiming his godson. Carefully, James slipped the sleeping boy into his friend's arms so that Harry rested comfortably against him. James was reluctant, it felt almost as if he was giving up Harry to his godfather. James crushed those thoughts away angrily, feeling foolish.   
  
Sirius loved Harry like he was his own son. James should be proud. James should be happy. Harry would be in good hands when he returned, so why was he so upset?   
  
"Don't move, Sirius," James said, shuffling through his robes for his wand. "There's probably someone coming this way whose a good friend of them or something. Stay here, I'll just take a look and be right back. It could be one of those annoying people like Diggle or Jorkins whose still convinced that you're guilty. But if you hear any sounds of fighting, take Harry and go."   
  
  
  
  
  
Sirius shifted uncomfortably when James left, the forest suddenly became so much more lonely and grim. Death Eaters…   
  
If it were the Death Eaters meeting James on that path, Sirius wasn't sure if he could bring himself to abandon his best friend. But he had Harry to consider, and if Sirius got him hurt again, he was sure that James would never forgive him. Absentmindedly, Sirius rested his head on Harry's untamed hair, listening to the steady breathing of the sleeping child.   
  
A footstep, snapping a delicate twig.   
  
Sirius snapped into focus, Harry moaning slightly in protest at the movement. A tall boy, in his late teens, with smooth features and warm eyes blinked at him, hand frozen in his hair where he tried to disentangle a few leaves. His expression soon turned into confusion when he failed to recognize Sirius' face, but they widened when he noticed the bloody bundle in his arms. The boy glanced back at him sharply, and Sirius could almost see the gears turning in his head.   
  
"Sirius Black!" he hissed.   
  
Sirius took a step back, reluctant to run but afraid to attack. "Wait, let me explain."   
  
The boy snarled, face contorted in anger. "What have you done to Harry?"   
  
Sirius almost dropped his godson in shock, realizing how the scene must have looked. A convicted murder, running around with the bloody body of The Boy Who Lived. Sirius quietly pleaded that the teen would listen, "No, it's not what it looks. Harry's…"   
  
"Let him go!" the boy shouted angrily, his face red and his eyes narrowed.   
  
"_Expelliarmus_!" Sirius shouted quickly when a murderous light reflected in the younger boy's eyes.   
  
The boy made a small sound of protest, vainly trying to grasp his wand as it flew through the air. Sirius ducked when the polished wood came his way, his arms burdened by Harry's weight.   
  
Harry made a soft groan, face set in a grimace of pain. The boy was instantly infuriated, rushing at Sirius in blind rage. Sirius barely placed Harry safely on the ground before he was knocked off his feet, the force draining all the air from his lungs. Sirius raised his hands to defend himself, hesitant to hurt the boy, trying to find his breath to explain. A fist slammed into the edge of his jaw; blood rushed into his mouth. Sirius could vaguely make out bits and pieces of the boy's angry whispers.   
  
"…hurt Harry… his family… never deserved any of it… you bastard…" _  
  
He knew Harry?   
_  
The weight against his side abruptly disappeared. Dazed, Sirius sat up, nursing a sore jaw. James had rushed back when he heard the noise, and pulled the boy off him. He held the struggling boy back, trying to explain the situation.   
  
_Diggory_, Sirius realized.   
  
"Cedric Diggory?" Sirius said, words a bit slurred from the swollen jaw.   
  
Cedric bristled with fury, trying to pull away from James. "How dare you… Mr. Potter, why are you trying to stop me? Look what he did to Harry!"   
  
"Cedric," James sounded a bit awkward at the intimate reference to his name. "this was a misunderstanding. Sirius never betrayed us. He was never the secret keeper, he was the decoy. Peter Pettigrew was the one who sold us over and framed Sirius for it. He'd never hurt Harry in any way."   
  
The boy looked at James with an expression that clearly said 'you're insane,' but it soon turned into doubt. He frowned, looking thoughtful.   
  
James sighed, "It's a long story, I'll tell you the details later. Last night, Harry was attacked by former Death Eaters, and we're wondering if we could borrow a room of yours until he gets better."   
  
"Of course," he said without hesitation.   
  
Cedric glanced at Sirius uneasily when he gently lifted Harry from the ground, and Sirius could see his hand going instinctively for his wand. Sighing inwardly in defeat, Sirius shoved Harry back into his father's arms. James looked at him quizzically.   
  
"That kid's going to blast my head off if Harry even coughs," Sirius said softly, trying to keep his voice low.   
  
James frowned; he wasn't used to the treatment that his friend was receiving. He knew that he was framed as a murderer, but actually seeing people's reactions to him was disturbing.   
  
"No, you take Harry. I'm going to explain to him," James said firmly, daring Sirius to argue. "Cedric," he called quickly, rushing forward to catch up with the younger boy. "You see…"   
  
Sirius sighed, tuning James' out. James would be doing that a lot from then on.   
  
  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
  
  
The mention of Sirius trying to impregnate Lily is from Evie's story, called The First Word. If you don't read it, evil socks will attack you! *cackles*   
  
Is the quality of the writing going down? I wrote this in one day and it seems sort of… how do you say it? Not up to standard? I'm so sorry!!   
  
I am never going to travel on a school day again. After this, I have a ton of homework to catch up with and two tests this week which I'm not prepared for. Noooo!!   
  
Nacasara - oh no! Are you ok? *chews fingernails nervously and calls the hospital*   
  
Evie - yup! I'm back… but… my story isn't! *cries* The first of the allusions to your story! There's another coming up in the later chapters though, in the old copy. *cries again*   
  
Taracollowen - really? Thanks! I don't know where the trees came from, really I didn't. The scene sort of came as a result of this weird dream I had that involved an evil squirrel that stood on some rocks and made me fall off a cliff and then I was at this forest… uhh… yeah… I wasn't smoking anything funny, I swear.   
  
Vmr - thanks!!   
  
Mihoshe - I'll try!! Thank you!   
  
Tilly & MercS - see, this isn't a cliffe! Ooo… is that your favorite chapter? Yay! This chapter isn't as good, unfortunately. It makes James seem a bit strange and Sirius a bit clueless, doesn't it? Tell me what you think of this chapter, don't worry about bashing me! I really, really don't mind. I'm up for critical reviews, and if you feel bad about it, just email me personally. I encourage bashing, I really do!! I love to know what people think! But if you love it, then… *grins widely*   
  
Lily Potter - ack, I know how you feel! Good luck!   
  
Lin-z - Sirius has a lot on his shoulders, and I always wanted to have him meet someone who could reassure him and relieve some of his guilt. It's a pity that Remus didn't go. I always wanted to know what he thought, especially since Peter's ability to transform was because of him, and Peter got away was again his fault. It's a mystery what exactly goes through his mind. I was afraid Cedric's part would be repetitive with all these guilt no guilt trips. Humm… but since my story vanished, I guess I could plan this anew. But… urg!!   
  
Rowan - I'll try!! I don't think it'll be very interesting though…   
  
starkitty - thanks!   
  
Sherylyn - I'll try! I think Harry does need some closure as well, but I'm not sure how to make the scene interesting. Sirius has dark eyes? Well… now that you mention it, I think you could be right. I keep reinforcing my own view of these characters, with James having brown hair and Sirius with blue eyes. Ack! It's too late to change now though…   
  
Ice - I will! *wails* I hate my computer…   
  
Tidmag and Gen Raid - well, the trick with the charm is to bring the spirit wherever. But in the wand, there are restrictions. I have that explained in the end, and why some stuff happens. Or… I had that in the end. *sigh* Oh crud, I forgot about those apparitions. Well, lets pretend that if they did, it wasn't remembered. I guess it wouldn't fit otherwise, especially since those Lily and James knew right away what was happening… urg.   
  
Gwen - you will have Harry! Don't worry!   
  
Tasha - no cliffe in this chapter either! *grin*   
  
Connie - thanks! This chapter wasn't as good, sorry!   
  
Nicky - I'll try!   
  
Phoenix - really? Well, I was a bit worried, since Sirius and James' reunion was idealized a lot… thanks!!   
  
Starlight - and the chapter afterwards is a disappointment! *hides with shame* I'm so sorry!! I hope I didn't disappoint you!   
  
Angelic azreal - did you really cry? I'm so sorry! *offers tissues*   
  
Moppet Poppet - okay!! Maybe I should offer the incentive that the 500th review gets to request a short story. Or maybe I'll just write a short story and dedicate it to the 500th reviewer since I can't write romance whatsoever. Or maybe… *rubs hands together excitedly.   
  
Keara Jordan - you two sound like really close friends! Yeah, Harry's so oblivious. These two friends need to get reacquainted and everything. I wish Remus was there *sigh*   
  
Slinky - I'm glad you enjoyed it! Did I throw another surprise? *smiles evilly*   
  
Shayla - Harry with Harry? Yeah, James and Sirius were really serious, weren't they? But they're such good friends!   
  
Googoo4you - I went to San Fransico, it wasn't that great. They had nice food there, but it was only for a few days so it wasn't much. I did get a lot of weird political bumper stickers though, but I don't think it'll be great if I suddenly pop a weird Bush joke in Cheating Death… *light bulb* or… maybe…   
  
Madelaine - longer? Well… its hard to say…   
  
Tsuki tatsu - more will be coming!   
  
Teigra - well, Harry likes death a lot. For Harry to leave, he has to have absolutely no doubts. It'll be difficult…   
  
Alexz - meditation! Be one with the tree! *runs away cackling* hi… I'm sane… I really am   
  
Abby - I never thought Wormtail was that bad, he has a side to him and he is human after all. The same thing is, I don't really hate anyone. Heck, I even sympathize with Voldermort sometimes…. SOMETIMES… It's just Lucis I really have issues with.   
  
Grayswandir - don't worry, I will finish this story. I will… I will…   
  
Abby - humm.. The one after this may take some time, considering I am rebuilding it from scraps. *sniff*   
  
Laura Blade - I will!   
  
Trunks Admirer - really? Am I good writer? I have horrible grades in English though, but I'm great at painting. Maybe it's the creative part that gets to me….   
  
Ayod Botla - yes! We need more chicken grease! I'll take your advice! But what's the werewolf registry?   
  
Gia - here it is!   
  
Kay - ooh, I have glasses too! Just recently got them. Yup, my dog has a bad temper though. She makes noises whenever I ignore her. She could be a Sirius if she wasn't a). a female b). pure white c). a bit small but everything else matches perfectly. She's a mini white grim!   
  
Gwen De'Paul...o - really? Wow… that's such a great compliment even though I know it's bad to make people cry… but to know that it was powerful enough. *dances around* I'll try to make everyone cry again even though it makes me feel guilty later!   
  
Hyper Princess - the trip was fun even though a bit hectic. Well, I had fun after the conference with all the bumper stickers…   
  
Jay Jay - well, its just with Voldermort's victims.   
  
Kat - thank you!   
  



	19. cheating a godfather

Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.   
  
a/n This chapter's dedicated to Moppet Poppet for being the 500th reviewer! And wow… you really wanted to be the 500th reviewer. You get a customized short story (I already sent you an email about it… hurry up and reply! I have this idea that's just aching to be written, soon, the story will be writing itself. I hope you don't mind if I go ahead and continue… I'm desperate to write it! ACK!) *grins* Same thing goes for the 1000th reviewer, but I don't think I'll ever get that many… my old draft only had 15 chapters left, I don't know about this one yet. *sighs dejectedly*   
  
  
  
**Cheating Death  
** By neutral   
  
  
  
Chapter eighteen - cheating a godfather (cheating oneself)   
  
  
  
Sirius flicked a rather rebellious strand Harry's hair, leaning on Cedric's small bed that he evacuated for them (the Diggory boy apologized so profusely afterwards that Sirius felt almost a little guilty himself). He had been doing that for the past hour or so, when James had left in search of a owl to contact Lily.   
  
_ 'Really rare here,'_ he had said. _'I wish Voldermort would kill more of bloody things sometimes.'_   
  
He felt a bit guilty for disturbing Harry's sleep, but the boy had been asleep for ten straight hours since the charm and he was getting impatient. There was a lot of things he wanted to say, and he wasn't sure if they could be said when James returned. As much as he enjoyed James company after such a long absence, there was a slight unease that rose in the back of his mind whenever the two friends spoke of Harry. They smiled and teased their way around the subject, but it was obvious. It was like a thorn in the side that just refused to go away.   
  
Sirius couldn't help but feel jealousy towards James; he was Harry's father, the parental figure that Harry always dreamed about. With James around, Harry didn't need his godfather anymore. True, James had insisted that Harry should leave, and it was only fair that father and son spent as much time together as possible, but there was still that flicker of anxiety. What if Harry wanted to stay? What if Harry chose James over him?   
  
_ But James is Harry's father,_ Sirius told himself firmly. _Harry doesn't need a godfather pestering him with his father around._   
  
A rustle of blankets tore him from his thoughts. Harry stirred, knocking Sirius' hand away wearily as he snuggled deeper into his blankets   
  
"Stop it, Hedwig," he grumbled, eyes still closed.   
  
Sirius raised an eyebrow, wondering whether he should be relieved or irritated. "I'm not an owl, Harry," he said, giving his godson's hair another tug.   
  
At that, Harry's eyes snapped open, looking around in bewilderment.   
  
"Sirius!" Harry grinned when he caught sight of the man sitting beside his bed.   
  
"You're finally awake, I thought James overdid the sleeping charm for a moment," Sirius said, all the previous worries forgotten. "Do you remember what happened?"   
  
Harry nodded slowly, "It feels so unreal. Where am I now?"   
  
Sirius swallowed uneasily, hesitant to tell. Harry always took Cedric's death rather hard, and he wasn't sure how he would react. But as the expression on Harry's face became more and more worried, Sirius sighed in defeat.   
  
"Cedric's place."   
  
"Cedric?" Harry whispered softly. He pushed himself into a sitting position, scanning the small room slowly. "He lives here? How… how is he?"   
  
Sighing, Sirius ruffled Harry's already messy hair. "Cedric is a good kid; a lot of people like him. He's rather defensive of you, actually," Sirius said with a wry smile.   
  
Harry glanced at him in surprise. "What do you mean? And what happened to your jaw?" Harry asked, catching sight a nasty purple bruise that was easily the size on his palm.   
  
"Cedric attacked me when he saw me carrying you. He thought I was trying to kill you or something," Sirius grinned at the memory.   
  
Harry looked aghast, "He did that?"   
  
"Harry, Cedric doesn't blame you," Sirius said firmly.   
  
The expression on Harry's face was hard to read. He looked like he was struggling with a mixture of doubt, hope, and disbelief. Harry twisted the edge of the pillow, but another thought returned the darkness to his emerald eyes.   
  
"I know you would say something like that," Harry murmured softly. He looked up with oddly accusing eyes, reaching for his godfather's wrist and grasping it firmly. "You were lying, weren't you?"   
  
"What do you mean?" Sirius examined Harry's expression in bewilderment.   
  
"You died, didn't you? You were just saying that because you didn't want me to know," Harry's voice was trembling and a suspicious brightness touched the edges of his eyes.   
  
Sirius was torn between irritation and concern for the absolute disregard Harry had for his own well-being. He sighed, watching Harry's hand tense over his wrist distractedly.   
  
"Harry, I wasn't lying."   
  
At his godson's puzzled but disbelieving face, Sirius quickly explained the events of the past few days, the events after his death, the reasons for his coming, and Dumbledore's words. He tried to hold nothing back, but when it came to describing the grief of his best friends, and uproar in the wizarding community, he couldn't bring himself to add even more guilt to Harry's stained conscience. Sirius steered away from it, but he could tell by Harry's darkening eyes that he noticed immediately. Harry was silent when Sirius finished, gaze unfocused unseeingly at a distance.   
  
"But isn't it dangerous?" Harry suddenly asked. "What if you can't return?"   
  
Sirius would have gripped Harry by the shoulders and to try to shake some sense into him if the boy didn't look so pale and tired. He had expected Harry to at least be excited or confused about returning home, but he overlooked it completely.   
  
"Harry, will you think about yourself for a moment?" Sirius said with some amount of impatience. "About this whole situation. About you, your parents, your home. Because if there is even an ounce of doubt, then you can't return."   
  
"So, I'm the one holding myself back?" Harry asked timidly.   
  
"I wouldn't have believed it a few days ago, but now I'm pretty sure," Sirius watched Harry's expression carefully for a reaction. But Harry turned away, picking at the edge of his blanket, purposefully avoiding Sirius' eyes.   
  
"It seems to complicated," Harry said slowly. "I didn't even know what I was thinking then. I'm not sure how to go back."   
  
Sirius bit his lip, unsure of how to respond. But he couldn't help but think that all of the burdens and worries Harry had to carry now was the result of him.   
  
"I'm sorry, Harry. I can't tell you how sorry I am. If I didn't get myself caught…," Sirius trailed off, rubbing his forehead wearily. "I wish I could make it up to you somehow."   
  
"You already did," Harry said firmly. "You tried to help me…"   
  
"And look what it did! I broke your arm and almost strangled you to death!"   
  
"You were tired! You can't break the imperious curse if you've been starved for the past two weeks." Harry said almost desperately, his fingers on Sirius' arm never relenting. "You tried…"   
  
Sirius drew a sharp breath. The memories that Harry's words brought were crashing down on him. The forgiveness that Harry seemed to willing to offer was frighteningly reminiscent of the past at the Riddle House. He couldn't accept it; Harry's ever word of clemency only brought more guilt.   
  
"Harry, stop," Sirius whispered hoarsely, pulling his arm free and burying his face in his hands.   
  
Harry was silent instantly, his emerald eyes wide as he watched his godfather. Sirius' shoulders were shaking visibly, his breaths were ragged and uneven. But when he touched his godfather's shoulder lightly, Sirius jolted out of his thoughts with a startled jerk. Harry had drew back his hand as if burnt at the reaction he incited. Sirius watched him miserably, his eyes saying what words could not. Harry wanted to scream and pound reason into his head, but all he could do was stare back.   
  
"Why did you do it?" Sirius asked suddenly, looking thoughtful.   
  
"You asked me that before…"   
  
"Yes, and you never really answered it. Harry…" Sirius sighed, sounding exasperated. "I know you don't like to tell people about what you feel or think, but can't you at least tell me?"   
  
When Harry didn't answered with silence, Sirius pulled away and fixed him with a disapproving glare. Harry shifted uneasily.   
  
"I didn't want you to die," Harry said finally, his voice soft. "I knew you'd be angry, but I really, really did not want you to die."   
  
Sirius sighed audibly, wondering if he should be flattered or furious. His godson could be so dense sometimes. "Harry, that's the same thing you said last time…"   
  
"I know!" Harry interrupted, anticipating a sharp rebuke. "I just didn't think it was fair how you always seemed to get the short end of the stick. You spent twelve years in Akzaban, even when you escaped, you had to be in hiding, and then you got caught by Voldermort. When you truly needed help, there was never anyone there," he looked extremely uneasy for being so blatant.   
  
Sirius sighed again, both angry and frustrated. Didn't Harry realize his words describing Sirius also described himself perfectly? He wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake some sense into him, tell him that he was worth something, that he was important to many, many people, that he himself never deserved such a sacrifice. But at the same time, he wanted to hide his godson and make sure he was far away from those demons that haunted him.   
  
"Why didn't you just tell Dumbledore?" Sirius asked, not trusting himself to meet Harry's eyes.   
  
"I didn't want him to die either!" Harry twisted the edge of his sleeve some more before speaking again. "I wanted to help you, but I knew if I went, Dumbledore would come after me immediately. He couldn't gather the ministry and risk you, but he couldn't wait and leave me to Voldermort. He would be in a terrible disadvantage."   
  
"Then why did you send him that letter?"   
  
Harry shook his head. "I didn't say I was going. I just told him where you were. I thought, in case Voldermort didn't let you leave, Dumbledore would still come to help you."   
  
At that, Sirius lost it. He knew Harry placed little value on his own life, as much as he wanted to deny it. But listening to him reason out his actions, Sirius felt a new wave of anger and frustration.   
  
"Harry, you just barged in there asking Voldermort to kill you!" Sirius voice was raised dangerously, gripping him by the shoulders. "Did it even once occur to you that perhaps I didn't want you to die? You thought that giving up your life would make me happy? What the hell were you--" Sirius broke off sharply when Harry's face contorted with pain.   
  
"Stop!" he gasped out, attempting to pry off Sirius hand from his right arm.   
  
Sirius released him immediately, anger dissipating in an instant as Harry rubbed his shoulder gingerly, looking a bit shaken. He bit back a fresh flood of guilt when he realized where Harry's collarbone had been shattered; it must be still sore.   
  
Sirius reached out to examine Harry's arm, but hesitated, afraid that he would inadvertently hurt him again. There was a pause, before he withdrew his hand quickly and ran his through his hair. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean--"   
  
"I know," Harry interrupted him, looking at Sirius firmly. "It wasn't your fault. None of this is."   
  
Sirius was silent, unsure of how to respond, and not trusting himself to. Harry had matured again. Somehow, over the past month since the third task, he suddenly grew up, too fast for Sirius' liking.   
  
"Harry, tell me, do you want to go back?" Sirius asked carefully.   
  
Harry didn't answer right away, eyes focusing on a frayed end of the blanket. "Yes," he whispered.   
  
"The truth, Harry."   
  
Harry's shoulders slouched in defeat, turning towards Sirius with a worried and slightly fearful expression on his face. "I… I'm not sure. I miss Ron and Hermione, but I want to meet my parents too. Maybe if I have a few more days…"   
  
Sirius nodded in understanding, soothing out the unruly hair fondly, "Just do whatever will make you the happiest."   
  
Those words came out with ease, but to Sirius, it felt like it was torn from him.   
  
_ Come back! Don't stay!_ Sirius wanted to scream, _Come home._   
  
But it felt so selfish. Harry would lead a miserable life, he could at least be loved, however bored, staying with his family. Harry deserved making that decision, his promise to James wasn't as important to Harry's own happiness. But it was still hard to let go.   
  
Sirius gave his godson's hand a reassuring squeeze. Harry looked at him curiously, almost as if he was trying to read his true thoughts, but Sirius forced a smile. Without warning, Harry threw his arms around his godfather's neck, an innocently childish gesture that betrayed his age completely.   
  
"Thank you," Harry whispered.   
  
  
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
  
  
Wah! I was practically waiting for this conversation. I wrote the last few paragraphs about around chapter 3, trying to introduce the theme of unselfish parental love and trust, etc. etc. etc. and pasted it. Then when the computer died, I went back and practically regurgitated the whole thing. *sigh* Trying to remember what the hell you wrote is a lot harder than it sounds. There are some inconsistencies in the chapter, but I'm not going to point any out *grin*… Harry seems out of character a bit, doesn't he? But his character in the books were never that clear… humm… what do you think?   
  
But still, this is my favorite chapter outside of chapter 2 and 3. *rubs hands together eagerly* Harry's a lot more open with Sirius than James   
  
Nacasara - ack! She's having a seizure! *calls the hospital* wow…. Your brother is… very… humm… does this happen to you a lot?   
  
Ayod Botla - thank you! I will submit it, well, I already did and they said the have this form up on Saturday. Wow, there are some really good writers in their archive. I'm intimidated.   
  
Bubmlebee Bucy - its posted!! Sorry, it took longer than usual, but I didn't want this chapter to be rushed.   
  
Mihoshe - wow, you're eating hot cheetos? So am I!! Right now, in fact, I love them. I can eat a whole bag without water. But then I die about half an hour later, so… not much better. But they're so addicting!!   
  
Gaby - ack. That sucks!! This laptop is only 4 months old, I should sue. Grrr…. I think there's a possibility I might have saved something on a backup cd since I had a copy somewhere. But urg… I don't know where I put it!   
  
Sherylyn - well, Rowling was probably referring to how Sirius' eyes were sunken. There will be fore James and Sirius interaction! But not in this chapter though… I wish I lengthened it but that would make everything seem boring. Urg.   
  
Peacockgirl - sorry for the long delay!! I hope you enjoy this chapter.   
  
tidmag and gen raid - but… but… Sirius gets hurt a lot. Well, sort of a lot. Not much as compared to Harry. Well, I was hoping to establish how people changed between the 13 years absence for James and Sirius and how people change. Since I borrowed Evie's story's universe, James and Sirius often teased each other over Harry just for fun. But now, it became a much more somber and touchy subject for them both. Ack, my reasoning doesn't make much sense, does it?   
  
Teigra - well… Sirius doesn't want Harry to go back to a place he hates. *grins evilly* Harry's going to have a hard time trying to decide since he lives life based on other people. Everybody *is* very protective of Harry, now that you mention it. Oops. Oh well, who can resist a fourteen year old that keeps getting himself in trouble?   
  
Lin-z - Ack, ff.net did? What did they delete? That must suck though, all your reviews and everything. Urg. I think this story's wearing itself out. Or maybe it is in my mind, because I can't seem to get out the sequel. Urg. I need to cook up some new ideas. If I don't finish this story soon, I may never be able to. Do you know that feeling when you just lose inspiration? *sigh* And I've never been known to finish a fic ever. This is not good… *cries*   
  
Connie - he's awake now, see? Yeah, I things are slow. I'm trying to balance out character development and plot so Harry will get to know his father and his godfather and manage to get something done at the same time. But it's not working. I have to sacrifice a lot of character interaction for story line… in my old version, the story does a sudden lurch and everything goes downhill really abruptly. Maybe I can fix it somewhat this time…   
  
Abby - yeah, Cedric is a neat character! Sucks that he had to die…   
  
Kat - James and Sirius' tension over Harry is going to be worse though, considering how perceptive Harry is. I'm glad you liked Cedric! Tell me what you think about this chapter!   
  
Jania - sorry!! I'll be nicer to Sirius now, I promise! Wait… I probably shouldn't… but Sirius wasn't tortured in this chapter, see? *hides*   
  
Tasha - oh, that sucks! I hope this doesn't get you in trouble. Hope you get ungrounded soon *grin* He's going to see Cedric soon! I added a scene for him.   
  
Kate Potter - thank you!   
  
Starlight - really? Well, that chapter seemed a bit rushed though. I hope you enjoy this chapter!   
  
Phoenix - I'm glad you like the reviewer response! It's just as fun responding as it is writing, it really is. I was afraid the story seemed to dragged down by descriptions. What do you think?   
  
Luna Rose - I will!   
  
Allocin - Harry's awake! Eek, the last chapter had a lot of problems, but I was too lazy to rewrite it. *hides*   
  
Lady Aquila - thanks! I will!   
  
Madelaine - wah?! 27 pages?? What happened? Did you have to rewrite it? Ack… that really stinks.   
  
MercS - Tilly's in the hospital?! What happened? Will she be okay? Tell her to get well soon! Waah.. I hope it isn't serious. Last time I had to stay in a hospital overnight because of a car accident, I know how boring it can get there. Humm… well, from the past Sirius, he always seemed to be the young and oblivious, king of the world type person. With James, that side of him returns and he's back to the teasing ways of him when he was young… but… humm… I can see why you think Sirius is like that. Say hi to Tilly for me!   
  
Keara Jordan - If Cedric knew Harry longer, he probably would be like a big brother type to him. *sigh* No, Remus isn't coming, but I really wish I brought him! I wouldn't have a way to explain his presence. Urg!! But I really, really want to bring him in.   
  
Googoo4you - yes! Check out Evie's story, it's the funniest and cutest mini fic ever. Yeah, the last chapter had flaws. *hides in a corner and wails* What do you think about this one?   
  
Evie - The First Word was the best story ever! You should be proud! There's another reference to it in the later chapters, I'm working on that one right now. *grins* Thank you for giving me permission!   
  
Lily Potter - ack, tests…. I just flunked by Biology test, I mean, 12 out of 20!! *hangs herself*   
  
Alexz -I will!   
  
Rowan - cheese tastes good. Especially with chips. Yum.   
  
Gwen - oh no, I should probably give Lupin a scene, but I didn't plan one! Urrggg!! Anyone up for a Lupin scene?   
  
BabyBlue1986 - I will! I'm glad you liked this chapter.   
  
Trunks Admirer - wow, I'm flattered! I was afraid that my writing had too much descriptions to read smoothly for an action fic. No, I'm sure you get tons of reviews! I don't get a lot compared to Lin-z. Oh, have you read her story? It's really interesting, but waah! Update! Update!   
  
Moppet Poppet - wow, you really, really wanted to be the 500th reviewer. But thank you!! Mash potato, why is everyone talking about food?! *gets a spoon and tries to eat Poppet's brain* *cackles* Apls? I've never even been there, so if I give you a ticket, you have to pack me in your suitcase. Hurry up and reply! Or else I'm going to start writing an AU fic about Sirius escaping Akzaban when Harry as 6 years old. *dances off to write that* Ooh… or do you have some ideas you want me to use? Email me or post it! Thanks!   
  
Deely Bopper - thank you!! I haven't been in HP fandom for a long time, I don't even know half the sites up. I don't even know when the fifth book is planned to come out and I don't even know when the movie's going to be released. *sigh* I'm slow…   
  
Gia - yes, Evie's story is the best!! Tell me what you think about this chapter!   
  
Hyper Princess - I'll try to email you, but I may try the new email address. Yup, I got the bumper sticker 'Bush is a plant' (sorry, conserves, but I'm a liberal). *cackle* ok, I'll stay away from politics. I'm glad you like this fic!! I hope the sequel's just as good, but so far, it's a disappointment. Maybe I should just ditch it to save this one…   
  



	20. cheating a friendly dispute

Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.   
  
a/n I have some good news. I had a backup CD!! Well, it wasn't really a backup CD, it was just some CD which I burned a copy of my hard drive and it had old files of cheating death on it. Unfortunately, it's the old, old draft and missing a couple of chapters towards the end (I have up till 28, still 5 chapters short. Unfortunately, those were the chapters I wanted to keep, grr…), but what the hell, I'm not complaining.   
  
Plug! Go read Moppet Poppet's dedication story, I posted up to chapter 3 so far. It's titled Of Western Stars, after a poem by Tennyson. Basic summary: Sirius hears about his godson in Azkaban when Harry is six and a half, and resolves to escape. So far, it seems like it's not going to be a short story.   
  
  
  
**Cheating Death  
** By neutral   
  
  
  
Chapter nineteen - cheating a friendly dispute   
  
  
  
It was strange how just a simple embrace could dissipate all his worries. All the fears of losing his godson faded into the back of his mind with the small bundle in his arms. He could only feel a calming peace with Harry's rhythmic heartbeat close to his ear and the soft rise and fall of his chest. It was a relief from all those days of holding a cold body. Sirius threw an arm around his godson, leaning against a thin shoulder; it was probably just as much of a comfort to him as to his godson.   
  
"Dad?" Harry's voice came close to his ear, body shifting as he looked over Sirius' shoulder.   
  
Sirius turned quickly, glancing at his friend at the door with a strange sort of apprehension.   
  
James smiled, but it was with a strained expression that he couldn't remember seeing since the time Sirius kissed Lily on the cheek, result of a rather bad dare. Lily was the one of the few girls who still cold shouldered the Marauders, and a joke on such a pretty red head was just too hard to resist. Everyone laughed about it afterwards, everyone but Lily of course. It was before the two lovebirds began dating, but it was obvious that James had already been pinning for the green eyed beauty. He tried hard to hide some jealousy behind his teasing.   
  
With a sinking heart, Sirius realized what Harry's action must have met to him. James was his father, and yet his son had more trust in his godfather. After stealing away James and Lily's life, he stole away his son as well.   
  
Harry must have noticed the awkward silence; he held his next words and watched the two adults apprehensively.   
  
"Did you find an owl?" Sirius asked quickly, trying to relieve the tense atmosphere.   
  
James joined Sirius beside the bed, sighing "No, those things are hard to find. Cedric offered to search for me so I can join you guys," he looked at his son, a fleeting expression of regret and concern darkening his eyes, before he smiled. "Feeling better, Harry?"   
  
Despite the briefness of the expression, Harry noticed it immediately. "Sirius told you how I died, didn't he?"   
  
"What?" James looked stunned.   
  
Sirius grunted, "I told you Harry was perceptive."   
  
But when Harry turned to James with searching eyes, Sirius couldn't help but feel guilty. He realized why Harry had kept it from his father, but he couldn't decide whether he should be flattered, or upset by that decision.   
  
"Dad, it's not Sirius' fault; the choice was completely mine," Harry's voice was almost pleading. Sirius turned away, afraid of seeing the emotions running through James' face. "Don't blame him, he didn't do anything wrong…"   
  
"I know. I understand," James said quietly. He pushed some locks of hair from his son's face sadly. "Sirius told me about what happened during your years at Hogwarts."   
  
"He did?" Harry asked timidly.   
  
James leaned against the bed, placing a cautious hand on Harry's shoulder. He watched his son quietly for a pensive moment. "Why didn't you tell me?" he finally asked.   
  
Harry stiffened at the contact, and picked at the edge of the pillow distractedly. He seemed to be doing that a lot of the late. "I'm not sure. I guess I didn't want it to bother you…"   
  
James sighed. "I'm your father! I should know. Why would you be afraid of bothering me?"   
  
"I don't know!" Harry clinched his fists, trying to vent some desperation. He twisted the fabric cruelly between his fingers. "I didn't want you to feel guilty for not being there. I didn't want you to feel obligated to make it up to me."   
  
Sirius couldn't suppress a bitter smile at Harry's words. Despite his lack of a father for the majority of his life, Harry seemed to understand James' character with only hours of acquaintance. Even James was stunned; he openly stared at Harry in shock, his hand tightening on his son's shoulder.   
  
"Harry knows us too well," Sirius muttered.   
  
James sighed again. "And you're just fourteen?" He leaned down to stare at Harry searchingly, and when Harry didn't answer, drew him into a loose hug. "I guess I should say that I'm proud of you, but I really wish things were different. You're too young to be here."   
  
Harry shook his head firmly. "No, I'm glad I'm here," he whispered, voice muffled against James' shirt.   
  
Sirius' stomach plummeted. James' smile dropped like lead from his face.   
  
"What?" James asked, voice dangerously calm.   
  
"I want to stay," Harry continued, peaceful as he leaned against James' shoulder. "I want to spend some time with you and Mum at least for a few days before I decide."   
  
James turned to Sirius with a mixture of confusion and anxiety. "Padfoot, you said you're going to bring Harry home."   
  
"Harry asked to stay for a few more days. James, let Harry decide what'll be best for him. It was his choice to begin with. I can't force Harry to go home if he really doesn't want to," Sirius said, forcing himself to meet his friend's gaze unflinchingly. But he almost faltered under the look of utter betrayal in James' demeanor.   
  
"Harry can't stay in this place! It's a prison! He should at least have a chance," James said angrily.   
  
"And be on the top of Voldermort's hit list when he comes back?! James, that place is hardly any better…" Sirius grumbled, equally irritated. It was only fair. James barely even knew Harry, he didn't have the right to make those decisions for him!   
  
"He's too young!"   
  
"He's seen much more than you or I will ever see! Harry has the right!"   
  
Sirius could feel the ringing silence of the room, James' words and his own echoing in his ears. The anger that he faced James was fueled by the fear of losing his godson to James; faced with the subject again, the frustration suddenly burst free. He couldn't help but scream at his best friend. Harry had gone still at their angry shouts, all color drained from his face and his green eyes wide. He seemed desperate to speak, but afraid of disturbing the two adults.   
  
"Could we wait until Mum comes?" Harry's voice was soft, even a bit afraid.   
  
That shattered James' resolution. He nodded, smoothing out Harry's hair ruefully. "Of course."   
  
  
  
  
  
"Thirsty?"   
  
Harry jumped in surprise, turning towards the figure by the door with eyes wider than he even thought humanly possible.   
  
"Cedric?" he choked out.   
  
Cedric smiled warmly, lifting the tray that carried two steaming mugs for Harry to see. "I thought you'd be thirsty so I brought some tea. Would you like some?"   
  
He held out the tray to the younger boy, but Harry was pale and silent. His eyes were turned to Cedric's face searchingly and took the proffered cup with unsteady hands.   
  
"Thank you," Harry said finally. But didn't lift it to his lips, only he grasping the mug so tightly that his knuckles were bloodless; the drink splashed around in a trembling grip.   
  
"Mr. Potter and Mr. Black are resting; they looked like they haven't slept for days," Cedric explained by way of greeting, taking a small sip from his cup. "I hope you don't mind my company."   
  
Harry shook his head stiffly, turning his eyes downcast.   
  
Cedric watched him with mounting concern, but their friendship in the past was never intimate. He never knew Harry with complete understanding; he wasn't sure if it was his place to reassure him. But the change from the confident, however quiet, person he knew only months ago to the timid and sickly boy was startling.   
  
"I'm sorry," Harry suddenly whispered, bowing his head to hide his face. "I'm so sorry. You must hate me so much."   
  
"Harry, what are you talking about?" Cedric asked, alarmed.   
  
"The cup, the portkey, the Third Task! If I hadn't asked you to take it with me, then you'd still be alive!"   
  
Cedric was astonished, all words logged in his throat. Harry was visibly shaking, his entire body slumped limply against the pillow, clutching at the mug so tightly that he looked like it would surely crack. This was what haunted him, Cedric realized.   
  
"Harry…," Cedric began, sitting slowly in a chair. Harry stiffened, as if bracing himself for a verbal assault. "I was going to thank you."   
  
Harry jerked around to face him, eyes wide. "What? Why?"   
  
Cedric grinned, placing the empty tray on the side of the bed. "For helping me with Krum and that spider. If you didn't, I probably would have died."   
  
"But you did die," Harry whispered, looking away again. "It shouldn't have been you at all."   
  
Cedric frowned, "Are you saying you should have died?"   
  
"You had a family, Cedric! You had people who would mourn for you! I made so many people miserable…," Harry choked out, bringing an unsteady hand to cover his face.   
  
Cedric inwardly winced when Harry's oversized sleeve pulled away, revealing a thin, wan arm coated with angry bruises. It was so strange, watching a fourteen year old boy just recovering from a mass of broken bones tear himself apart about how he made others unhappy. But Cedric couldn't help a flicker of rage at those words.   
  
"My family blamed you?"   
  
Harry jumped slightly at the anger that leaked in his tone, shaking his head quickly. "No, they didn't. But they should have."   
  
"Harry…"   
  
"They should have! You died because you were there. You never asked for any of it! It was completely unfair!" Harry burst out.   
  
Cedric frowned again. Those words would have described Harry perfectly as well, if the boy hadn't been so selfless and stubborn. He sighed, searching his mind for a different route.   
  
"Harry, do you blame Mr. Black?" Cedric asked slowly.   
  
Harry looked surprised at the sudden change of subject, but he shook his head firmly. "It wasn't Sirius' fault."   
  
"Exactly," at Harry's inquiring gaze, Cedric sighed, shaking his head. "The living takes dying a lot more seriously than the dead. I don't blame you, you don't blame Mr. Black. Yet he blames himself just the way you do. Do you mind dying?"   
  
"Not really," Harry admitted slowly. It was easier to speak of his worries with someone other than his father and godfather.   
  
"But you don't want Mr. Black to die."   
  
"Of course not! Sirius has a lot to live for. And Professor Lupin needs a friend," Harry shot back desperately.   
  
Cedric nodded. "That's exactly how your father feels about you, and how you feel about me. But I don't mind dying all that much either. Let's just forget about what happened, alright? Let's be friends without all the pressure of competition for the tournament lying between us." He offered his hand to the younger boy with a bright smile.   
  
Harry's expression was impossible to discern. He looked worried at the thought of his godfather still weighed by guilt, and confused at the same time. But at Cedric's hand still waiting for his answer, Harry couldn't dwell on those thoughts for long. Slowly, he raised his hand and shook it, smiling weakly.   
  
Cedric smiled, taking a small sip from his cup. It was a relief to see Harry finally free of some guilt that plagued him. He couldn't imagine what those nights were like after the Third Task, especially from what he heard from Sirius. He couldn't help but admire the bravery of such a young boy, but as he listened to Harry's words, it occurred to him that Harry never wanted any of it at all. He was just a fourteen year-old without a family, driven to extremes just to try and stay alive. To learn that Harry had chosen death at such a young age made him wonder what thoughts lurked behind those clear green eyes.   
  
"There was a Death Eater who came around the time as you did and started gathering all the men to attack you. I got wind of it from Thomas and tired to see if I could find you before they did," Cedric explained.   
  
Harry blanched at the mention of the name, but Cedric didn't seem to notice.   
  
"It must be really frustrating to have people trying to kill you both dead and alive. Ever since your first year in Hogwarts," Cedric muttered sympathetically. But when Harry's expression sobered even more, he quickly raked his brain for a distraction. "What really happened to Professor Lockhart? I remember Dumbledore saying how he was in an accident in the Chamber of Secrets and they had to ship him off to St. Mungos."   
  
"Oh, that," Harry said, looking sheepish. But nevertheless, there was an amused smile on his face. "He didn't really go down in the chamber at his own will. Ron and I forced him by wand point, and when he tried to escape, the wand backfired." At Cedric's even more confused look, Harry quickly added, "It's a long story."   
  
  
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
  
  
This was one of the chapters I really really wanted to rewrite. But since I found the CD, i didn't. *sigh* It would have been better if I didn't find it at all. I mean, this entire thing is like... a regurgitation of all the past stuff thrown in. It's reaaaaaaally bad! URG!   
  
An odd place to end a chapter? I thought it was okay, since whatever conversation they have afterwards could be your imagination. Cedric was hard to characterize, and he sounds a little too book worn in here. But I really didn't know how I should present him! Urg! I know it's not his personality to blame Harry, considering his individuality in book 4 (he acts like Harry in his idealism and fairness sort of thing) but it's still very hard!   
  
Style change in the middle of the chapter, is it noticeable? Which one did you like better?   
  
Ack, I can't reply to the reviews this time. Have to go back to researching something about bronze lions... *wails* so sorry!! I love all those reviews! They're great, thank you so much! I wasn't even planning to update since I have so much to do for my stupid report, but since I found the backup CD, I just decided to post this chapter. Felt so guilty about making everyone wait... It's very, very, very, very poorly written, isn't it? I'll reply next time, especially since spring break is coming up. But I'll do a generic reply.   
  
This story is slow, isn't it? Umm… well… that's because I sort of want to establish Harry, James, and Sirius' interaction and relationship before I go on to the rest of the story. Lily's not going to be as in depth, and I'm afraid Harry's not going to get hurt again until chapter… uhh… around 22 I think. Ack… bad way to mark plot development, huh.   
  
You know, I just realized for the past 18 chapters, I've been spelling Azkaban wrong. ACK! Why didn't anyone tell me this sooner! I'm so embarrassed! *hides* Yes… I admit it… I'm a terrible speller, can I help it? *wails and runs off*   
  
As for Lily and James not being able to come back, humm… you see, only Harry has that ability. Sirius isn't actually bringing him back, he's guiding him back. Sirius is there as a sort of support, but it's Harry who has that ability. He is after all, an impartial spirit who's strong enough to rely on his own will.   
  



	21. cheating forebodence

Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.   
  
a/n Don't worry, this isn't the 1000th post for WS, so don't freak out Rowena Gryffindor! I just realized that CD is going to die if I delay it any longer, so it's now officially off hiatus. Although the next chapter isn't quite ready, I have something in mind so it shouldn't take more than a month to get the next chapter out. PoM… well… chapter 7 isn't quite ready yet. I wasn't really expecting WS to reach 1000th so fast!! That chapter will be up… Monday at the latest. So I'm compensating a bit for CD's chapter 20. Ack! Imagine what it was like when I come home and check the review count for the first time after I posted WS' chapter 23, and boom! 1000!! I nearly spit soda all over my laptop! *sigh*   
  
  
  
**Cheating Death**  
By neutral   
  
  
  
Chapter twenty - cheating forebodence   
  
  
  
It soon occurred to everyone that returning to the Potter's home was not the best idea. With the Death Eaters still out for Harry's blood, their residence would be the first place they would target. The travel would take more than four days at least, and by that time, Harry's location would travel like wildfire. It was finally decided that they would keep a low profile in Cedric's small cottage, and Cedric would escort Lily from her home.   
  
Harry was annoyed with the precautions they had to take. It seemed to worsen since his time with the Dursleys; at least there, they never spoke openly about his well-being (if at all). But he kept silent, seeing that both James and Sirius would be furious if he suggested anything remotely dangerous. Harry was embarrassed for having to put Cedric through so much trouble, but the older boy was insistent. He seemed to feel guilt from the very idea that Harry had tortured himself for weeks over his death.   
  
Harry seemed to realize right away he was causing friction between James and Sirius. He was torn between wanting to spend time with his newly found father and become better acquainted with his godfather, and wanting to stay out of their way to keep the object of their dispute as far as possible. He had always imagined the reunion of the two best friends to be nothing short of a fairytale; never in his dreams would he imagine James and Sirius to come to a disagreement over him. He hid in his room as much as possible, sometimes watching the pair with a tinge of remorse.   
  
James and Sirius were still best of friends. They spent hours in each other's company reliving the past, but the tension was still there. They both ignored it as much as possible, trying not to waste the precious time they had together.   
  
"But I barely know him," James admitted to Sirius, squinting his eyes against the sun as he laid against the grass outside Cedric's small cottage. They were on the subject of Harry yet again; it always came up, no matter how hard they tried to avoid it.   
  
"Prongs, you have no idea how much Harry is like you. Usually, when you know he's up to something and you don't know what, just think: what would James do? You'll be right nine out of ten times," Sirius gazed unblinkingly at the canopy above him, patches of gold peeking through the trees. It was a while since anything was as peaceful as this.   
  
James looked incredibly flattered. "Really?"   
  
"Yeah, that was how Remus found us at the Shrieking Shack Harry's third year."   
  
"He doesn't play any pranks though."   
  
Sirius grunted. "The Weasley twins already give everybody a handful. Besides, I don't think Harry wants any detentions. There's always a possibility he'd get Snape."   
  
James made a strange gurgling noise, almost as if he was trying to choke, laugh, and vomit at the same time. He sat up, coughing and spluttering incoherently. Sirius laughed, patting his friend on the back good-naturedly.   
  
"I still haven't gotten over the shock of him being a professor," James spluttered.   
  
"Oh, he hates Harry's guts. Or I thought he did," Sirius added as an afterthought. At James' inquisitive gaze, Sirius tried to put his thoughts into words. "At the Riddle House, he was the first one to see Harry. He told him to leave, but evidently, Harry refused. He even visited once or twice after Harry died," Sirius trailed off, a shadow passing over his face as he recalled the days when he huddled in the small guestroom with Harry's lifeless body. It seemed such a long time ago.   
  
"But I don't know that much about Harry at all either," Sirius said suddenly. "We've only met each other face to face five times, and all of those meetings were never more than half an hour. The longest was probably our first conversation at the Shrieking Shack," he sighed, raking a hand through his long hair.   
  
James stared at Sirius in surprise. It hardly seemed possible to him, after watching their interactions, however brief, it was obvious the two shared many deep bonds.   
  
"He's sort of like… Moony, in a way. You can speak to him for hours and not have learned a piece of information about him personally. But if you ask him, he just shuts up."   
  
"Moony?" James echoed. He seemed incredulous at first, but the expression of doubt soon became understanding.   
  
"He only told me things once," Sirius continued, eyes unfocused as he replayed the memory in his mind. "That was during the Tournament, before the First Task. The whole school thought he had somehow sneaked his name in the goblet and his best friend abandoned him. He was falling apart." Sirius sighed, leaning back against the grass heavily. It was a painful image to remember. It took a lot to force Harry into such desperations, and Sirius dreaded to wonder what would have happened if he kept it all hidden.   
  
"Harry… he's very important to you, isn't he?" James asked softly.   
  
"He's your son! Of course he's important," Sirius said, a bit more harshly than he intended.   
  
"No, that's not what I meant. It's like, Harry's become something of a lifeline to you," James glanced at Sirius tentatively, traces of regret in his eyes.   
  
Sirius was silent, crushing a small weed with a finger as a distraction.   
  
"When you're at Akzaban, you need a goal," he finally said. "Otherwise, you'll forget and get lost."   
  
"Harry was your goal?"   
  
"No," Sirius smiled bitterly. "It was Wormtail. I wanted to avenge your death. I didn't really start focusing on Harry until after the Shrieking Shack, and I realized what growing up without loving parents did to him," he paused, trying to steady his trembling hands. James looked at him quietly, but Sirius couldn't bring himself to meet his eyes. "He told me he heard you and Lily… dying… every time he came near a dementor. He said it was my fault. He wanted to kill me…"   
  
James drew a sharp breath, covering his face in his hands. He couldn't seem to find the words to speak.   
  
"It was like seeing you," Sirius continued, "in Akzaban… blaming me for your death."   
  
"Sirius," James cut in sharply.   
  
"You did it… he kept saying over and over. You did it," Sirius couldn't suppress a shiver as he recalled the memory.   
  
"Sirius!" James gripped his friend's arm firmly.   
  
Sirius paused, turning to look at his friend questioningly. But under James' reassuring gaze, and eyes that held not a trace of accusations against him, Sirius couldn't seem to keep his doubts . He turned away again, unable to meet his friend's eyes, tracing the outline of the distant mountains.   
  
"He couldn't do it," Sirius said softly. James raised his eyebrow in confusion. "Harry had that wand in his hand. He stood there for well over a minute. You could see that hate and anger in his eyes, but when he pointed it at me, he couldn't do it," Sirius swallowed past a constricted throat, eyes fixed at the canopy above. "Harry's too kind for his own good, just like you, James."   
  
  
  
  
  
Harry sat up with a jerk, gasping for breath. He glanced around shakily, the nightmare still vivid in his mind, a hand reaching blindly for his glasses. He didn't relax even when the room came back into focus.   
  
_ A dream…   
  
_ Harry touched his quiet scar out of habit. Harry shut his eyes, trying to hold the flimsy images. The voices were slipping away rapidly, and he was left with a lingering feeling of unease. Harry couldn't decide whether it was a memory of his past, or some sort of twisted surveillance still watching his archenemy after death. He sighed wearily, rubbing his eyes.   
  
It was still hard to believe that he was dead. Everything seemed so real, so simple. Looking outside was like looking into a tamed Forbidden Forest; there was nothing unusual about it. Harry sighed when his mind drifted to his awkward situation. Both James and Sirius expected him to miraculously return a few days after he becomes re-acquainted with Lily. Did they realize it wasn't that simple? He didn't even know how he was held back after his run-in with Riddle. He was pretty sure his one wish right then was to go back to Sirius, but it obviously wasn't right. Frankly, Harry didn't even know what was going on in his own mind. He wondered if he'd ever be able to make it home.   
  
The sound of laughter shattered his concentration. Looking out, Harry smiled as he caught sight of the two best friends, laughing as they sat of the grass. Sirius seemed years younger, the life back in his face and his eyes gleaming. Harry sighed wistfully; if only none of this had happened. If only Voldermort never lived. Then everything would be perfect.   
  
Harry paused, a bitterness of guilt and fear rushing into his mind. Sirius had given up a lot to save him, sacrificed a lot for him. It had never occurred that he was that important to anybody, but he was. It was obvious Sirius didn't want him to die, despite his words. Harry wondered what would happen if he chose to stay.   
  
He shook away the doubts angrily, telling himself firmly that he would enjoy the worryless times while they lasted. Harry crawled out of bed with some difficulty, Cedric's oversized shirt and pants almost tripping him as he stood. But his body was thankfully completely healed; dying wasn't so bad if he had his parents and he an immortal body. He folded the sleeves and legs of his clothes before walking towards the door of the small cottage. He hesitated when he stepped outside, afraid that he would cause another dispute between the two. James and Sirius looked so happy, so carefree. He didn't need to shatter it from them.   
  
_ 'Child.'   
  
_ Harry jumped, looking around sharply. The soft whispered voice was almost inhuman in its melody, and sent a shiver down his spine.   
  
"Whose there?" he called uncertainly, backing towards the door. A cold, silky weight slid across his leg, and Harry startled. Looking down, he was shocked to discover a small, common grass snake, scales catching the shimmer of the afternoon sun, wrapped loosely around his ankle.   
  
_ 'They know.'   
  
'What are you talking about?'_ Harry asked, reaching for the wand hidden in his pocket. He glared at the snake suspiciously, but couldn't summon fear or hatred against such an ordinary animal.   
  
The animal lifted his head, black eyes boring into his. _'Those men with the human skulls know. They're coming for you.'_   
  
  
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
  
  
Short chapter. I wasn't sure if it was wise to make Sirius so open with James, since he normally seems so reserved, but considering how close they were before, I thought it seemed possible.   
  
Chapter 20 and 21 marks the end of character development and paves the way to action. However… chapters 21 to 24 are in a state of revision, because the are… in short… awful. And I do mean it!! I mean… reading them gave me a headache. I don't know exactly why those are terrible, I think it has something to do with overkill and just plain bad writing skills and repetitiveness. But if I find myself completely incapable to rewrite CD anymore, I'll post it as it is so CD will never be in danger of dying completely.   
  
Expect PoM before Monday. Sorry for the delay, is this an okay peace offering?   
  
Thank you all so much for your encouragements!! They really helped keep me tied to my computer. I put it on hiatus because I felt that CD was beginning to die, and without all those reviews, I'm sure it would have. They were a great confidence booster; it was reassuring in that CD wasn't really as bad as I thought it was. Once again, thank you all so much!!! CD would never be here if it wasn't for all you guys!   
  



	22. cheating a misfortune

Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.   
  
a/n I have come to the realization that never in this lifetime am I ever going to finish editing it. So, as promised (Allocin, I have not forgotten!!) in a previous agreement, if I cannot revise, I will post the entire story in a couple big hunks as it is and then find a tub and drown.   
  
Warning: these are very, very rough drafts! I wrote these back in May so the style's very different. *sigh*   
  
  
  
**Cheating Death  
** By neutral   
  
  
  
Chapter twenty-two - cheating a misfortune   
  
  
  
"Sirius!!"   
  
Sirius jerked straight up from the grass when Harry's voice cut through the clearing. Instinctively, he reached for his wand, the years as a fugitive had honed his responses. Harry was running towards them, looking awkward and close to tripping in his borrowed clothes.   
  
"Sirius, they know! The Death Eaters… they know we're here. We have to leave right now!"   
  
Beside him, James stiffened. Harry's reaction had caught him completely off guard, having never been acquainted with his son's uncanny perceptions and odd revelations.   
  
"They intercepted one of our owls to Mum yesterday, and they're coming here as we speak," Harry seemed amazingly calm for someone convinced of danger. "We have to leave right now! They coming."   
  
"Harry, are you sure about this?" James asked sharply, sparing Sirius a few questioning glances.   
  
Harry nodded as he drew several breaths. He seemed unusually winded after such a short run, but he was still weary from the injuries two days before. But when he spoke, his tone was firm and unwavering. "I'm sure. It can't be lying, that would make no sense. None of the death eaters can speak with…" Abruptly, Harry broke off, paling visibly. He turned to Sirius with an oddly desperate expression.   
  
"What is it?" Sirius asked worriedly.   
  
Harry chewed his lip, but didn't speak for a long minute.   
  
There was a soft hiss. Harry startled in surprise, but Sirius barely heard the noise. A snake slithered through the grass at Harry's feet, its tongue flicking against his cloak. The boy took several steps back almost fearfully, and Sirius' expression darkened in understanding.   
  
"James, we have to go," he whispered.   
  
  
  
  
  
When Sirius said now, he meant it. Seeing his friend's expression, James caught onto the gravity of the situation instantly. He asked no questions as he packet their few possessions, plotting the quickest way to intercept Lily in their travels. Harry found himself gasping for breath as he half jogged half walked after the two taller men, a good foot or so taller than him, trying to keep from tripping over his long traveling cloak.   
  
Two days was not nearly enough to recover from his previous injuries, but even so, Harry was forced to admit the ability to instantly regenerate for the dead was much more helpful than spending a week in the hospital wing. Sirius and James glanced around nervously as they walked, face hidden in dark hoods that made Harry shiver every time he glanced at them. They looked too much like the Death Eaters they were evading for his liking.   
  
At a fallen log, snagged his foot and threw Harry against the grass hard. He had seen it, but he couldn't seem to find the strength to drag his leg over. James helped him up quickly, concerned when Harry leaned against him heavily, breath coming in short gasps.   
  
"Sirius, we should take a break. Harry's not going to hold out much longer."   
  
Harry shook his head quickly, leaning against a tree to catch his breath. He was eager to see his mother, and delaying them would be the last thing he wanted. "I'll be okay."   
  
Sirius was doubtful. He had learned long ago not to trust Harry's word when it came to matters like this. "Harry, stop lying. You look ghastly. James, can we spare a few minutes?"   
  
"I don't know. I thought I heard footsteps a few moments ago, but I could be imagining it," James said softly, scanning the area quickly. The trio held their breaths for a second, listening intently. Dead silence met their ears; not even a bird song shattered the air, no rustle of the wind. James frowned. "Something's not right. Let's get out of here. Sorry Harry, but you'll have to deal."   
  
Harry nodded, straightening and forcing his legs to stay steady. He was surprised when James grabbed him around the waist and lifted him easily. Instinctively, he squirmed in the hold, feeling awkward. He had never been held like that even as a boy, or if he had, he certainly couldn't remember it. He was used by such an open display of affection, considering the only time Sirius or James held him was when he was unconscious. But James held him still.   
  
"You don't seriously want to walk," he murmured, staring at his son pointedly.   
  
"N… No, it's just that…," Harry stammered, but hesitant to voice his thoughts. "Aren't I heavy?" he finally asked, leaning stiffly against James' shoulder.   
  
"No, I'd be happier if you were," James said, a tinge of bitterness in his voice. Suddenly, he smiled, "Oh, I understand. You're too old for this stuff, right?"   
  
Harry flushed in even more humiliation. "No! I was just saying…"   
  
"James," Sirius glared at James warningly, saving Harry from a hasty explanation. "I don't think the Dursleys carried him around when he was a child. Cut the kid some slack, okay?"   
  
Harry was even more uneasy after Sirius' words. He turned away, looking anywhere but Sirius and James' face. James sighed, throwing Sirius a rather exasperated glare. But his eyes had softened considerably, and his arm around Harry tightened.   
  
"You take things too seriously, Harry. I was only joking," James said gently   
  
Sirius grunted, looking resentful. "I doubt those sorry excuse for muggles joked around with Harry either. Hell, I doubt they spent any more attention necessary to keep Harry alive."   
  
James frowned, a surge of bitterness through him at the mention of Harry's relatives. A soft crunch shattered the thoughts in James' mind. He stilled, craning his neck over Sirius' shoulder to scan the brightly lit path. Distinctively, he could see a shadow withdraw back behind a thick trunk.   
  
"There's someone behind us."   
  
James' words seemed like the death toll. The instant those words left his mouth. Black cloaks descended upon them from all sides, streaming out behind thick trunks, low bushes, every angle imaginable. They seemed to have been expecting them, lying in wait for their final arrival. Sirius cursed under his breath, and both men simultaneously stepped in front, blocking Harry from view. But the effort was futile.   
  
"There he is!" a masked man pointed at Harry with blackened fingers. James instinctively pulled Harry closer. "Once we have him, we can avenge ourselves!"   
  
Harry's mind clicked in recognition.   
  
"That man… he was at the mountains!" Harry whispered. James' eyes narrowed, gripping Harry's arm tightly.   
  
There was uneasy shifting between the figures, the action disturbingly reminiscent of the time when Harry transfigured Voldemort back into Riddle. That was when Harry realized, they didn't trust him. They didn't follow the masked man.   
  
"You mean, you can avenge yourself!" Harry shot back angrily as he pulled from his father's protection. He was surprised at his own outburst, but he couldn't seem to restrain himself. "You're too afraid of coming after me yourself, so you get everyone else to help you!"   
  
Distantly, he could feel James' grasp tense painfully, trying to pull him back, but Harry resisted.   
  
"In case you fail, you won't be the only one, right?" Harry continued, glaring at him angrily. "You'll drag them all down with you!"   
  
The tension between the cloaked men was almost tangible. The stranger made a low growl in his throat, but Harry forced himself to meet his shielded gaze unflinchingly. Then, slowly, the man reached up to his face, peeling away the skull-like film over his face. Dull black eyes met his, shallow and sunken in a swallow face. If it hadn't been those lifeless eyes, than man would have looked commonplace and easily overlooked. Harry blinked back, unable to identify the face.   
  
"You don't recognize me, do you?" the man said, malice lacing his voice. "Perhaps the name would help?"   
  
Harry gritted his teeth, reluctant to play the game. But despite the rather grim situation, Harry was amazed at the numbness that he felt; the cloaked men didn't intimidate him anymore. They were outnumbered, a good ten or twenty were all pressed and weaved between trees. But perhaps it was the knowledge of him unable to die, or perhaps it was the strange sense that seemed to exude from them. Harry had an idea they weren't very powerful wizards. They lacked the presence of Dumbledore and Voldemort, and didn't leave the same effect.   
  
"I don't know what your name is," Harry said quietly.   
  
With a snarl, the man raised his wand, his entire body trembling whether with hate or fear he did not know. "You are the one who killed me, you fool! You don't deserve to even be here! You deserve to suffer!"   
  
Harry stumbled in shock, but James held him still. "What? I don't know what you're talking…"   
  
"Liar! You were there that day, when Master tried to kill you. You deliberately led him to me!"   
  
The words of denial rose in the back of Harry's throat, but a memory returned full force and dashed it before it even came. Of Voldemort, seething from the boggart curse. Of him, dodging the avada kedavra. Of a Death Eater stiffening under a stray impact and falling lifelessly to the floor. Harry's blood suddenly became ice in his veins, his body numb.   
  
"That was you?" Harry whispered, words much calmer than he felt or looked.   
  
James glanced at Harry sharply in surprise.   
  
"I was just trying to get out of the way, I had no idea…"   
  
"Shut up!" the man shrieked, raising his wand.   
  
The man growled, throwing a string of hexes in his direction. Harry broke from his daze to dive out of the way, but James tore in the other direction, hand still glued to his son's shoulder. He would have fallen right into the curses' path if Sirius hadn't latched onto his other arm and dragged him forward.   
  
"Quick, Sirius, take Harry and run. I'll hold them off!" James hissed. With a flick of his wand, a thin film of gold rose around them, absorbing a couple of weak spells.   
  
"No, I can't do that!" Sirius shot back. He was preoccupied as he disarmed a few unsuspecting Death Eaters with a carefully aimed curse.   
  
"At least get Harry out of here!" James shoved Harry into his godfather's arms with a force that made them both stumble.   
  
Sirius hesitated, looking torn between leaving his best friend and saving his godson. The barrier flickered and died, cracking and splintering under a deadly curse. James was momentarily distracted by raising another barrier charm, hoping to buy enough time for Sirius to leave. But Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of desperation. It was happening all over again: his parents' death to protect him, Sirius' sacrifice for him. With a burst of rashness and anger, Harry tore himself from Sirius' grasp.   
  
"Harry!"   
  
Sirius reached out to drag his godson back, but a stray curse caught his outstretched arm and left a gaping cut. He drew back with a hiss of pain. The enemies, sensing a weakness, rained curses at him from all sides. Sirius blocked them and countered them distractedly, eyes scanning for Harry through the black cloaks.   
  
Once the barrier had crumbled, curses seemed to rain from the sky. Harry blindly avoided a few stunning spells that came his way. He forced his mind to focus, trying to think despite the onslaught. Harry couldn't help but feel a flicker of guilt. The men were after him; that man hated them because Harry had killed him. He was the guilty one! James and Sirius were dragged into this unfairly. Perhaps if he led them away. Led them away…   
  
But he was tired, his legs were shaking under his weight and his muscles felt like water. His breath already came in short gasps and sweat was coating his skin. The weariness in his body was weighing him down, and he barely caught himself from falling several times.   
  
It was impossible, Harry realized with a sinking heart. There were too many, they were too outnumbered, they weren't going to win. The cloaked men hardly seemed to notice him at all; they swarmed to James and Sirius and locked them into a tight corner. Not even the unmasked stranger seemed to target him; he pointed his wand yelling out unforgivables at every breath.   
  
A movement caught his attention. Harry's stomach twisted when he noticed the man direct his wand towards Sirius, sidetracked by a thick of enemies that had cornered James and was trying to free his friend.   
  
"Sirius! Watch out!" Harry shouted.   
  
Sirius snapped into attention at Harry's warning, instinctively ducking out of the way. Behind him, a masked man shrieked in pain, the skin on his hands scalding as if struck with boiling water, his arms twisting in inhuman positions. Sirius seemed unfazed by the figure screaming behind him, deftly flinging a few Death Eaters out of his way with a flick of his wand. Even after these years, none of his auror training had left him.   
  
"Sirius, go help Harry! Don't worry about me." James shouted brokenly.   
  
Sirius hesitated only for an instant. He nodded, waving his wand to stun a few unsuspecting men, struggling to get to his godson. Harry was about to raise his wand to help when a force slammed into his back, leaving fire in its wake, flinging him to the ground.   
  
  
  
  
  
Sirius froze when the screams rang through the thicket. But the screams soon sank into muffled cries, sounding as if he was trying to swallow the angry pain that rose in his throat. Harry seemed to be making a conscious effort to suppress the agony of the cruciatus curse even as he writhed on the floor. His legs were drawn against his chest, his hands were clenched, clawing the soft earth as the curse ate into his body. His face was contorted with pain, his eyes squeezed shut behind his glasses.   
  
"Stop!" Sirius shouted, pointing his wand with a hand that shook with anger.   
  
James rushed from behind him, reaching for the boy who had gone still on the grass. But invisible hands dragged Harry when James was only inches from him, pulling him into the air and hanging him like a mockery of a broken puppet. All strength seemed to have gone, Harry's head was slumped, his limbs lifeless, his entire body seemed to be hung from his wand arm. Sirius' stomach churned when the man stepped behind the dangling body, pointing the wand at Harry's exposed throat.   
  
"You…," Sirius muttered a curse. His eyes were narrowed and his fists clenched. He looked ready to tear the enemy from limb to limb. The Death Eaters beside them had gone eerily still.   
  
Harry made a small grunt of pain, grasping his shoulder weakly. "Let go!" he choked out. He squirmed in the grasp, struggling to put some weight on the ground. To have his entire body suspended in air by an injured limb was enough to bring black spots to his vision and dizziness to his head.   
  
The man only sneered with sickening pride.   
  
Sirius could feel anger breaking in his body and streaming through his blood. He jumped at the man, wand forgotten, but James dragged him back quickly. James was trembling with rage, the color gone from his face and a fire sparking in his eyes.   
  
"Let him go right now, or I swear I will…," Sirius hissed, fighting James' hold.   
  
"What do you want?" James asked carefully.   
  
Harry's head snapped up, eyes wide with terror. But the stranger only smiled.   
  
"He's right. You are terribly predicable. You sound just like your son before he died."   
  
"What do you want?!" James shouted. The anger was burning, begging to be released. His wand was aching to throw a deadly curse at the stranger.   
  
"Put your wands down."   
  
  
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
  
  
Okay, I think I'm too mean to Harry. He gets hurt far too often. I'm so sorry!!   
  
This was a scene later spliced into the story.   
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter twenty-three - cheating a voice   
  
  
  
"No…," Harry gasped as he struggled against the strings that seemed to entangle his arm and suspend him in the air. _  
  
Don't listen to him!_ He tried to say, but the flames that ate at his shoulder choked it back.   
  
With his collarbone so recently shattered, the pressure felt as if his bones was being ripped away piece by piece. He looked pleadingly at his father, but James seemed to misinterpret his watery gaze, clouded with pain.   
  
James nodded, eyes still fixed on his son as he lowered his wand. But one glance at Sirius told him that he had understood. Sirius stared at him, regret and some apology etched into his face. With a firm, unflinching stare, he followed James' movement.   
  
The action seemed to fuel Harry's desperation. All the pain was forgotten as he twisted angrily. "No! Don't do it! Stop, get out of here. Forget about me!" Harry shouted.   
  
A sharp pain cut his words short. The force of the slap tore at his joint, and he gritted his teeth in frustration. Harry choked, tasting blood in his mouth. But the anger at the injustice of it all made him rash. Harry reached blindly for the man's wand, but the elevated position placed him at a different height. Harry was surprised to find a handful of coarse hair in his grasp. But without a second thought, Harry clutched at the short brown hair and pulled it as hard as his weakened body would allow.   
  
There was an angry hiss. Perhaps it was the stranger's shock and surprise, Harry wasn't sure, but the force that held his arm snapped and Harry went tumbling to the floor. All the strength that sustained him before was gone in a second, he couldn't even bring himself to turn and face his enemy. It was as if the imperious curse was back, enveloping him in a thick cocoon. All Harry wanted to do was lie still on the cool, inviting grass.   
  
A sharp kick to the side of his ribs brought him out of his daze. Harry cried out in protest, squirming away to wrap a protective arm around his side.   
  
"Stop! I'll put down my wand!" James said quickly.   
  
"No!" Harry gritted out, struggling to stand. A second kick knocked the wind from his lungs and he sank back to the floor. A heel of the leather boot met his hand that gripped his wand solidly; there was a distinct crack as the fragile bones of his wrist gave away. Harry screamed when the lightening ripped through his arm.   
  
Harry could barely hear the angry shouts that rang through the thicket. He could pick out the voice of James, yelling hexes and curses as he fought his way through the men. Sirius' words were strained and distracted. But one voice stood out distinctly in the mix of sounds.   
  
_ 'Little boy… little boy… foolish little boy. The Dark Lord laughs at you.'   
  
_ The hair on the back of his neck prickled in warning. He knew that voice. Harry cracked open his eyes wearily, trying to pick out the shiny scales in the low grass.   
  
_ 'Shut up! Go away! Why can't you just let us be?'_ Harry choked out desperately. He barely noticed James and Sirius jerk around to face him, unnerved by the soft inhuman hissing. A shudder ran through the faceless men. The unmasked man stilled, taking a step back in disbelief.   
  
A hot brand suddenly pressed itself against his scar. Harry felt as if his entire skull was being split open from the flames; long fingers were ranking over his mind, twisting and shredding his skin. He cried out, clutching at his head.   
  
Voices came to him thickly in a cloud, voices of fear. Distantly, Harry could feel figures shifting around him uneasily.   
  
"… parselmouth… like Master…!" a man choked out.   
  
But it was slurred and muffled as if he had been underwater. Harry could feel something large and heavy bounding forward, the sound of canine growling echoing through the air. Then there was a rough shuffle, startled cries. Hands were on him, dragging him upward. Harry tried to fight against the stranger, but all he managed to do was squirm blindly. But as he protested, all the stress and weariness collapsed back on him. Harry slumped forward, his world a pleasant, comforting black.   
  
  
  
_  
  
It was dark. The air was heavy again his chest and the silence was like a hand, pushing him to the ground. It was as if he was at the marsh again, each foot sinking deeper and deeper into the muck.   
  
'You lost.'   
  
'Who are you?' Harry whispered. But instead of those words, soft hissing met his ears, barely even stirring the heavy silence that rested like a blanket across the land.   
  
'Hardly important.'   
  
The smooth calmness of the voice made Harry grind his teeth in irritation. It was too much like that day at the Riddle House, where Voldermort played him like a chess piece. 'What do you want?'   
  
'Nothing you can give. You already lost.'   
  
'What?' Harry asked, fear drawing color out of his face.   
  
'Little boy… gave yourself willingly. Foolish, so foolish.'   
  
'What did…' Harry swallowed, mouth suddenly going dry. 'What did I lose?"   
  
'Yourself.'   
  
Harry's breath caught as if a cold hand clenched his chest and squeezed the air from his lungs.   
  
'That's not true!' Harry gasped, a shiver raking his entire body.   
  
'Little boy, say good-bye…'   
  
'You're lying!'   
  
'Pathetic thing. Do you think half spirits can actually survive?'   
  
'What?' Harry choked out.   
  
'You're going to be like the others soon… Soon, you're going to sink into darkness like all half spirits do.'   
  
_ Harry jerked awake abruptly, cold sweat coating his skin and his head pounding with pain. He felt like someone had just grabbed a hold of him and thrust him back into his body. There was a voice, a dream, a snake that whispered secrets in his ear. But they were rapidly fading away, sliding through his mind like water in his hand. Harry frowned, opening his eyes cautiously.   
  
The room was an indistinct blur that made the incessant pounding turn into fingernails raking inside his skull. Harry groaned, quickly closing his eyes again.   
  
A hand ran across his forehead with a cool cloth.   
  
"Harry?"   
  
The voice was familiar. Harry cracked an eye open, squinting against the light. There was a soft shuffle, and something cold was placed against his eyes. Harry blinked as the room came sharply into focus.   
  
"Dad?" Harry asked softly.   
  
James had made a remarkable transformation since the last time he had seen him. Dark rings encircled his eyes and he was pale and haggard. He looked as if he hadn't slept for days on end.   
  
"You're finally awake," James whispered, sighing audibility in relief. "We thought you had been cursed for a moment there."   
  
Harry stared at him blankly, "What do you mean?"   
  
"You slept for almost two days straight. No amount of spells would wake you up," James frowned slightly, brushing a few stray hairs from Harry's eyes. "How do you feel?"   
  
"Alright," Harry answered automatically.   
  
Only after he spoke did he realize that was partly the truth; with his glasses, the room seemed less bright, less blinding. The pounding in his head had dulled into a low buzz. Slowly, Harry tested his limbs, amazed at how quickly the pain had left it. His right shoulder felt unnaturally warm, as if someone had cast several healing charms over the abused skin.   
  
_ He was asleep for that long?_ Harry thought with surprise. He hadn't even slept that long after falling over the side of the cliff. Harry couldn't ignore the nagging suspicion that something was wrong.   
  
"What happened after I was out?" Harry asked worriedly, shifting slightly to face his father, the blanket surprisingly unyielding.   
  
"They left. Former Death Eaters were never that organized; they were pretty much shunned by all of us, I guess they all followed him because he offered hope. But those men that Voldemort killed usually died because of their incompetence. I'm hardly surprised they abandoned him," James grumbled bitterly, a flash of anger tinting his brown eyes.   
  
"Are you sure you're alright?" James couldn't help but ask. The image of his son lying helpless on the ground as the Death Eater cruelly kicked him was burned into his mind. But the way his son reacted seemed almost as if that experience wasn't foreign to him at all. James paused, examining Harry's face carefully. "You looked like you were dreaming some minutes ago."   
  
Harry stilled at James' words. The dream! Harry couldn't suppress a pang of panic. All the words came back in acute detail. Was it the Dark Lord that held him back, and not himself?   
  
Harry still couldn't hide a shiver that ran down his spine. Another Dark Lord? This was too much…   
  
"Harry, what's wrong?" James asked, breaking into Harry's thoughts.   
  
Harry paled, turning to his father was searching eyes. James expression held nothing but concern, but Harry was reluctant to worry him. James had been so excited about having Harry finally meet his mother, he was afraid of destroying every chance at happiness. Should he tell?   
  
"No, nothing's wrong," Harry said quickly. It had came a lot from a subconscious decision, years of lying made it seem natural to him. Harry regretted it the moment those words left his mouth, but he couldn't seem to take them back.   
  
You're such a idiot, Harry! He shouted at himself. This could be serious!   
  
"Is there another Dark Lord here?" Harry couldn't help but ask.   
  
"No," James said quietly, a pensive frown crossing his face. "It's just a myth. The Dark Lord was never seen. Not even Thomas has seen him, and he was the first here." Catching Harry's incredulous expression, he ruffled Harry's hair soothingly. "I've already traveled every inch of this land. There is no Dark Lord's hideout here. It's probably just a creation of everyone's obsessive fear of Voldemort. Don't worry about it. They're just lies."   
  
Harry nodded, feeling a distant warmth of reassurance. His dream was just a pointless nightmare. Those fears were just hidden fears of his mind. But Harry couldn't hide the biting doubt with voices of the hissing still echoing in his head. he crushed it away forcibly.   
  
It was just a dream, Harry firmly told himself. They were figments of your imagination.   
  
But the shadow remained, colder than ever in the back of his mind.   
  
"Harry," James words broke into his thoughts suddenly, sounding unusually serious. "About what happened back there."   
  
Harry paled. "You heard. Did Sirius tell you before that… that I'm a parselmouth?"   
  
"No," James inwardly frowned when he felt Harry stiffen even more beside him. "Sirius explained it to me afterwards. Harry, do you think I'll hate you just because you can speak parseltongue? I could care less if you were a werewolf. You're my son! I know you're not evil, Harry. I know you're nothing like Voldermort."   
  
Despite those words, Harry's face fell. "The hat wanted to place me in Slytherin. It said I would do well there," Harry murmured, uneasy again. "It only placed me in Gryffindor because I didn't want to be in the same house as Malfoy. And Voldemort even said I was a lot like him… the same upbringing… brother wand cores… I even looked like him when he was young!"   
  
It was a relief to finally get those words off his chest, but Harry couldn't bring himself to face his father's stunned face.   
  
  
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter twenty-four - cheating relief   
  
  
  
A hand turned his head gently; Harry looked at his father, somewhat fearful of his reaction. But James' seemed worried, not angry.   
  
"Harry, if you were like him, you would have never forgiven the Dursleys. You would have never died for Sirius," James said firmly.   
  
_ But that's different, _Harry wanted to say._ What if I learn to hate later on? What if I do become like him one day?   
  
_ That had been his greatest fear since second year, when so many parallels between him and Tom Riddle were established. They were too like, too frighteningly alike. What if one day, something happened, and Harry found himself going down the same path? But it was still some amount of comfort to know that his father, the very figure that Riddle despised and was rejected by, had such faith in Harry.   
  
Harry smiled uneasily to reassure James, trying to distract himself from those nagging fears. Instead, he scanned his surroundings, surprised when a small room with peeling plaster and cheap, whitewashed walls met his eyes. Trees peeked through the window, dusty curtains shielding only a bit of light. But the austere room was fit with the largest bed-like sofa that he ever seen, supporting the three of them with much more room to spare. The edges brushed against the walls; they were fortunate the door opened outwards. It clashed with the plain and soft colors, the red and gold of the blankets glaring back. It looked like something transfigured, by the clean, crisp sheets.   
  
"Where are we?" Harry asked, looking around in surprise.   
  
"The cottage. We just got here a few hours ago," James said. Catching his son's inquiring gaze, he patted the bed with a smile. "Transfigured it from an apple. This house is too small, this is the only bed room. Sirius ate the other apples, so now we only have one. And I sort of forgotten the spell for transfiguring beds." James added sheepishly.   
  
Harry glanced around, relieved and surprised when he caught sight of Sirius in the far corner of the room. His godfather looked like he was trapped in a rather uneasy sleep as he leaned against an armrest; his brows were knotted and his breathing unsteady.   
  
"Sirius hasn't been sleeping very much, has he?" Harry softly asked.   
  
James' smile slipped several notches as he glanced at his friend. "No. He was really worried about you, but the injuries he had before he came here probably caught up with him. He was really tired."   
  
Harry nodded, sinking back against sofa. His father's tone had been soft, but Harry caught a flicker in his expression that worried him.   
  
"Dad, why do you want me to go back?" Harry suddenly blurted out.   
  
James paused, surprised by the question. The way Harry had worded it, it almost seemed as if he was condemning his own son to a life of horror. James hesitated, searching his mind for an explanation.   
  
"I want you to be happy," James slowly began.   
  
"But what if I'm not happy there?" Harry asked desperately. "What if I get everybody hurt?"   
  
James stilled at his son's words, everything clicked into place. Harry was afraid of condemning those around him by association. James was unsure of what to say; he saw so little of his son's life.   
  
He sighed, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder, mindful of the injury. "Harry, they must be very upset already." There was a brief flicker of guilt in his emerald eyes, and James quickly dropped the topic. "You won't be happy here. You want to be with your friends. You want to be with Sirius."   
  
Harry wasn't sure what to say. He hated the thought of losing his parents again, but he couldn't help but feel that James was right. Ron and Hermione, if they knew he chose death because he wanted to protect them… They would never forgive him.   
  
And Sirius was like a father to him, and he dreaded to imagine life was like with someone who understood and accepted him was torn away.   
  
He had been uneasy in James' presence, but felt perfectly safe with Sirius'. But much of that stemmed with Sirius' understanding of him; he had seen much more, been through much more with his godfather. James was a long lost parent that offered warmth and comfort, but Harry was afraid of sharing his past with him. What if James treated him differently? What if his past got in the way of his future? He always wanted his family to live as if nothing ever came between them; he didn't want them hung on his past.   
  
Sirius was different. He was the one person that needed Harry to be anyone but himself. Ron and Hermione expected him to be trusting, Dumbledore expected him to be strong. Everyone had such expectations of him, but only Sirius understood. But Harry couldn't help but feel guilty for trending on the patience that it obviously must take for James not to grind him with questions.   
  
Sirius' arm twitched convulsively. His godfather's face knotted with pain for a brief moment, and he turned his head away. But Harry had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn't asleep.   
  
"Padfoot, I know you're awake," James said, poking him with his wand. "If you don't admit it, I'm going to hex you."   
  
Sirius lifted his head so that his hair was no longer screening his face, a glint shimmering in his eyes that hid the shadows.   
  
"You were eavesdropping!" James said accusingly, poking him harder. But much of that was a distraction for the guilt that Sirius tended to relive often.   
  
Sirius made a face, "I was not! I just woke up a few minutes ago and was going back to sleep… Hey! Watch where you point that!" he grumbled, ducking another attack.   
  
"I was having a nice conversation with my son too, Padfoot!" James shot back, giving Sirius a good-humored slap on the side of his head. But Sirius twisted away, holding Harry in front and hiding behind him as a safeguard. Harry flushed in embarrassment.   
  
"Hey!" James muttered indignantly. "First, you hold Harry hostage for four hours and now you use him as a shield!"   
  
"I am not!" Sirius snapped, quickly moving from behind him. He paused, turning to examine Harry carefully, cautiously touching his shoulder. "Feeling better?"   
  
Harry nodded. "Everybody keeps asking me that."   
  
Sirius frowned. "Well, if you didn't get into so much trouble, maybe we won't."   
  
"You make it sound like I wanted trouble," Harry grumbled resentfully.   
  
Harry instantly regretted those words when Sirius fell silently thoughtful, a distracted hollowness in his expression. James watched the two with concern, but as the silence settled through the room heavily, he could no longer contain his exasperation.   
  
Perhaps it was to make up the years of childhood lost to his friend and shatter the reserve in his son's character, but without a word of warning, he gripped the edge of a rather padded pillow and flung it at his friend's head.   
  
"Do the two of you ever loosen up?" James grumbled irritably as he reached for another cushion.   
  
For a brief moment, Sirius only blinked back at him in surprise. But at the second blow, he caught on instantly, stopping the fluff ball in mid air and using it to slam James repeatedly on the head. Laughing, James scrambled to safety, pushing his glasses more securely on his face as he reached for another object of war. The bed bounced and creaked under their weight; Sirius almost knocked his head against the ceiling several times as he ran on the surface. Soon, the two grown men were running around the room, feathers tangled in their hair as they flung pillows across the room.   
  
Harry gaped as he watched the two, but quickly shut his mouth when he came close to swallowing a feather. It had been hard to imagine Sirius as once being young before, but now Harry could hardly imagine he had ever grown old. James and Sirius were worse than him and Ron; he never had a pillow fight with his best friend.   
  
Harry smiled despite himself; the world of the dead seemed far better than the world of the living. Who cared if the Death Eaters were still after him. Who cared if snakes haunted all his dreams. If only he could live this life with his parents, Harry would be satisfied. But Harry dreaded what would happen when Sirius left.   
  
James paused, bending to retrieve his glasses. Sirius kindly held off his next onslaught as he waited for his friend to regain his sight.   
  
"Harry, quick, attack him!" Sirius turned to Harry eagerly.   
  
"Hey, are you trying to turn my own son against me?" James grumbled, still shuffling around for his glasses on the uneven surface of the sofa. "Hit Sirius, Harry!"   
  
Harry unconsciously shrank back, feeling a blush creep up his cheeks.   
  
"I'll just sit here and watch," he said quickly.   
  
Sirius looked visibly disappointed; James turned to him worriedly, glasses finally secure in his hand. But in a flash, his godfather had bounded to his side, dragging Harry from the bed, heedless of Harry's protests.   
  
"Harry's on my side!" Sirius said, throwing him over his shoulder triumphantly. "Prepare to lose, James!"   
  
Sirius' words triggered a dim memory that nagged in the recesses of his mind. Harry shuddered. But neither adults seemed to notice. James responded with a mumble under his breath that Harry couldn't catch, and Sirius laughed.   
  
A soft wack on the head with something soft and poofy brought him back to earth. Harry blinked in surprise when he was dumped on the sofa, a cushion placed in his hands. All worries were driven out of his mind when he struggled to get out of the way of flying pillows between his father and godfather, laughter rising in his throat. The dream was long forgotten in the dim recesses of his mind. It was as if all the weight of the world lifted from his shoulders, and he was truly a child. Harry would have given anything to preserve that moment.   
  
  
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
  
  
This is the worst chapter that has ever graced anyone's computer screen. I was sorely tempted to delete it, I wonder why I didn't. Ack… it's… a nightmare! I hate this chapter, in fact, I think this chapter is the reason why I hated the whole second part of my story. I don't know what's wrong with it either, something just doesn't flow. *wails*   
  
An interlude chapter after a rather tense chapter. Sorry about the waste of plot space though. James' conversation with Harry is pretty pointless in this part, but plays a larger role in Playing Life (the sequel, if it's ever going to be completed *sigh*)   
  
This chapter was long until I edited it. It lost about half a page of junk. Ok. I definitely lose points for originality in this chapter. It was going to be deleted all together, but well… I couldn't. It was too tempting. That's why its so short, it didn't fit anywhere else. This shortness gets made up for in the later chapters!   
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter twenty-five - cheating a reunion   
  
  
  
"Harry."   
  
A voice, muffled and distant, stirred him from the depths of sleep. Harry blinked groggily, surprised and embarrassed to discover that he had fallen asleep on Sirius' shoulder with his glasses pressing into the side of his temple. He sat up, nursing a bruised ear.   
  
"She's coming," James said excitedly.   
  
Harry was awake in an instant, sitting up with a jerk.   
  
"Mum's here?" Harry squeaked. His voice sounded like someone had scraped his throat with sandpaper.   
  
James nodded, looking almost as excited to see his wife as Harry his mother for the first time. Only he expressed it by throwing half his body out the window and Harry by becoming pale and rigid. He grasped Sirius' hand securely, and his godfather gave him a reassuring squeeze.   
  
There was a loud bang as if someone had just thrown open the door and loud footsteps pounding down the hall. Without warning, a tall, fiery redhead rushed into the room, frighteningly reminiscent of Ginny as she rushed downstairs in the Burrow. He could feel Sirius stiffen, the hand around his tightening painfully. Harry watched the woman who defended him as an infant with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity.   
  
Lily was stunning with her eternally youthful face. Her red hair, however disheveled, looked nothing like Aunt Petunia's dirty blond; it was a shade of red orange that just screamed for attention. Her emerald green eyes scanned the room almost frantically, before pausing at the battered sofa.   
  
"Oh my god, Sirius?" Lily gasped, her face paling. She had already expected his presence, but even so, she could not contain her shock at finally seeing her long absent friend. "And James! Wait… no," Lily paled even more when she noticed her husband beside the window. "Harry?"   
  
After so many years of dreaming, Harry was surprised to find himself almost fearful. He shrank back against the couch, clutching Sirius' hand in a death grip.   
  
But Lily didn't seem to notice. "Harry," she choked out, approaching slowly on unsteady legs. With one fluid motion, she had him enveloped in a tight embrace. "Harry, you have no idea how much we missed you! I wished I could see you for so long…," Lily's words broke on a sob as she pulled her son closer.   
  
Harry could only stare back, dazed. "Mum?" he whispered hesitantly.   
  
Lily nodded as she pulled away, looking at Harry carefully. "Oh my god, you look so much like James! You must have given the staff a heart attack when you appeared."   
  
"I don't remember," Harry admitted timidly. "I was too distracted by the sorting."   
  
Lily nodded, smiling despite the tears brimming in her eyes.   
  
"You know?" Harry suddenly asked, noting how her emerald eyes shimmered with regret and sadness each time she watched at him.   
  
Lily nodded, "Cedric told me." She smiled wider, probably trying to relieve the tautness in her son's stature. "If I started wailing and told you how proud I am of you, I'd fit into the role of the perfect stereotypical mother, so I'm not going to do that. I bet James already pestered you enough about it."   
  
James made a sound of protest, and Harry couldn't help but smile. His parents were still as playful and teasing as ever. He was pleasantly surprised to discover that Lily was nothing like Petunia, her carefree personality reminding him a lot of a rather mellowed James.   
  
"Thank you," Harry whispered, his voice trembling.   
  
Lily watched him searchingly. "What for?"   
  
"The protection you left me," Harry whispered shakily, trying hard to control the blurriness in his eyes.   
  
If it wasn't for that, I would have died long ago. Harry added silently in his mind, but he held it back, afraid the next words would betray him entirely.   
  
"You're my son! Of course I wanted to protect you. I wish I could have done more…" Lily trailed off, brushing her fingers across the curse scar with an unreadable expression.   
  
Harry shook his head angrily. "No. It's alright."   
  
Lily made a soft gasp, choking him with another hug. Harry was stiff at first, the motherly affection completely foreign to him. But Lily didn't seem to notice, or didn't seem to mind. She just rested her head against her son's bony shoulder, finding comfort in his presence. It had been a shock to see her son so different, when the last time she remembered him was thirteen years ago. The change from a spoiled one year-old to a shy and timid fourteen year-old was such a rough transition. Lily couldn't hide a pang of pain each time she thought about what he must have gone through.   
  
"And what happened to you, Padfoot?" Lily pulled away and rounded on her old friend suddenly. Sirius jumped, looking almost afraid of Lily's wrath. "I heard what happened to you, but you had a whole week to build up fat before you came. You're setting a bad example for Harry!"   
  
Sirius fidgeted nervously. "Harry isn't that young…"   
  
"Sirius!"   
  
"Okay! I promise I'll eat when I get back!" Sirius said quickly.   
  
"And Moony's a good cook too," Lily added, poking at a bony wrist disapprovingly. "You should take advantage of it." She paused to examine Sirius' face, her stern expression lost. Suddenly, she gave a shuddering gasp and threw her arms around his neck, sobbing loudly. "I can't believe all that happened to you! I'm so sorry…"   
  
Sirius returned the embrace, shaking his head angrily. "No, that's…"   
  
"I know how you are, Padfoot," Lily interrupted, face still buried in his shirt. "I knew you were going to blame yourself. If you say that our death was your fault, I'm going to slap you."   
  
"I deserve it… ow!" Sirius choked when Lily's arm tightened dangerously around his neck.   
  
Lily smiled sadly as she pulled away, but her face soon sobered when she traced the dark rings around his eyes and the sunken cheeks.   
  
"Harry's death hit you hard, didn't it?" she said softly.   
  
Sirius looked away, unable to meet her inquiring gaze. Lily smiled again, turning her softened gaze to her son.   
  
"You know, I always imagined Sirius to be the most lenient godfather, but I highly doubt that now. Do you think Sirius will pester you like an old lady when you get back, Harry?"   
  
Sirius looked ready to protest, but clicked his jaw shut with an audible click. Harry's throat constricted painfully, words caught in his mouth. At every mention of his prospects for return, Harry would feel a sharp stab of guilt of those words that echoed in his mind. The snake's words would return to him, louder than ever, telling him that he had lost to an invisible Dark Lord that would slowly destroy and consume him. Harry tried his hardest to ignore it, but they always came to haunt him when he was alone.   
  
  
  
  
  
But with the people that he loved, those doubts always faded as soon as they came.   
  
Harry smiled at he watched his mother lean over to give Sirius a playful slap. James laughed, giving his son's shoulder a tight squeeze. It took only a day of re-acquaintance before the three were close friends again. It was like they had never died. This was the life that they should have had. He only wished that Remus was here, and everything would have been perfect.   
  
It was getting harder and harder to leave.   
  
"You changed, Sirius," Lily said sadly. She examined his bony figure and the haunted eyes. "You're more mature than James now."   
  
"Hey!" James cried indignantly.   
  
Somehow, Harry realized, they managed to turn every single serious statement into a joke.   
  
Sirius snorted. "Even Harry's more mature than James… ow!"   
  
James had stood up, almost squashing Harry to give Sirius a sharp whack on the head. Fifth time that afternoon, Harry thought as he grinned.   
  
"Is something wrong? You're awfully quiet, Harry," Lily said softly, her emerald eyes filled with concern.   
  
Harry smiled, shaking his head. "Everything's perfect."   
  
Lily gave him a quizzical look, but didn't question him further.   
  
"Maybe you and Harry should consider switching places… ow! Okay, I'll be quiet!" Sirius said, jumping out of his seat to dodge another blow. But the moment James sat back down, the mischievous glint in his eye returned full force. "See, look how Harry's just sitting there calm and composed, but then look and Prongs!"   
  
Harry shrank under both James and Sirius' gaze, trying to sink under the table. It had been fun watching the two bicker, but when they included him, it became a lot more embarrassing. It felt like he was caught between some sort of sibling rivalry.   
  
James caught him before he slid any further down his seat, swinging a possessive arm over his shoulder. "I don't think my son agrees, do you Harry?"   
  
Harry gulped when James and Sirius glared over his head heatedly.   
  
"I take back what I said about you being more mature, Sirius," Lily grumbled, giving both men reproachful glares. "Geez, you two are like big babies. How does Remus manage?"   
  
Sirius laughed sheepishly, but a shadow passed over his face. "Moony thought I finally went insane a couple of days ago."   
  
"Finally?" James bore an incredulous expression.   
  
Harry froze at the memory of his professor, pale and haggard beside Sirius' bed. Those words. That pleading tone of his words. It made sense.   
  
"Did he really think you were insane?" Harry asked softly.   
  
James and Lily sobered at his words, and Harry inwardly scolded himself. He seemed to shatter every carefree atmosphere by just speaking.   
  
Sirius looked at Harry with an unreadable expression for some time before answering. But even then, his words were slow and carefully chosen, as if he was afraid of upsetting him. "Almost. Dumbledore came to my rescue though," he sighed, sitting back down heavily. "I was that close," Sirius murmured, bringing his thumb and index finger together to prove his point. "That close to thinking you were a dream of some sort. If you hadn't dragged me under the covers and hauled your body across the room, I would never have suspected."   
  
Sirius drew a deep breath, averting his eyes quickly. He looked shaken at the memory, his face had lost its color. Compulsively, Harry stood up, pulling away from his mother's lose embrace and reached for Sirius' hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. It was an uncomfortable position, with the table that stood between them grinding into his stomach; he had to kneel on his chair to reach his hand. But Sirius didn't seem to notice. He stood up, pulling Harry into a hug that almost dragged him over the table, crushing his godson's head against the coarse robes.   
  
"Don't you ever do that again," Sirius whispered angrily.   
  
Harry didn't trust himself to speak. He couldn't even imagine what those days were like for him. But Harry had never thought he was that important to his godfather. Harry hid his face, feeling the mistiness that clouded his eyes. If Sirius and Remus had taken it that hard, then what about Ron and Hermione?   
  
"I'm sorry," Harry finally choked out. "I'm sorry I made everyone so miserable."   
  
A gentle hand smoothed out his hair reassuringly, but Harry couldn't take comfort in it. He had meant to help everyone. He had meant it as a favor, to save them by leaving them. But it seemed that he always caused pain and misery everywhere he went! Harry bit his lip, twisting the edge of the table cloth.   
  
Lily couldn't hide a smile at the bond that the godfather and godson shared. James watched Sirius thoughtfully, drawing a breath to say words that never passed his throat. He found it hard to comfort his friend on something he couldn't understand, and slightly envious of the bond that the godfather and godson shared.   
  
A soft tingling in the back of Harry mind made him flinch. Harry pulled away, looking around in surprise, but Sirius didn't seem to notice. Harry frowned; the light pressure was still there, reminding him oddly of the protection wards he set off at the graveyard. He concentrated on it slowly.   
  
"Someone's coming."   
  
  
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
  
  
Lily is not as well characterized as James. Is she believable? Is she just bad? Tell me what you think!   
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter twenty-six - cheating disillusionment   
  
  
  
Harry paused the moment those words left his mouth, baffled. He didn't know how he knew, he just seemed to, almost as if the knowledge was buried within him.   
  
Lily, James and Sirius looked at him sharply in astonishment.   
  
"What?" Sirius whispered, pulling away as Harry climbed back into his seat. "How do you know?"   
  
"There was thing tingling, kind of like what happens when you step into some protection wards," Harry explained slowly. "Did you feel it?"   
  
A sharp rap on the front door saved anyone from answering. James exchanged confused glances with Sirius and Lily before leaving the small living room. There was a tense silence. Harry strained to hear the visitor down the hall, trying to ignore the questioning look that Sirius was giving him.   
  
There was a soft whisper of indistinguishable voices, followed by footsteps that echoed down the hall.   
  
James stepped in slowly, "Harry, there's someone who wants to see you."   
  
The brown haired, brown eyed man that followed bore a face that Harry would recognize anywhere.   
  
"Thomas! This is a surprise," Lily said as she strode forward in greeting.   
  
Sirius tore her back harshly; from his narrowed glare and flushed face, it was obvious he recognized him as well.   
  
"Tom Riddle!" Harry hissed, reaching for the wand in his shirt pocket.   
  
Lily gasped and James placed himself in front of his son protectively.   
  
The man's stern face turned to him with a haughtiness that made Harry's stomach churn in disgust. "I wish you'd make up your mind, Harry Potter."   
  
Harry stared back in bewilderment. "What are you taking about?"   
  
The man sighed impatiently. "First you call me, now you don't want to see me. It's becoming irritating."   
  
"I don't know what you're taking about. I never wanted to see you!" Harry shot back angrily.   
  
The corner of Riddle's mouth twitched into an all too familiar smirk. "Even with that, you're still clueless. I wonder how you managed to escape him so many times," he shook his head, waving a hand carelessly. "You called me when you wanted to live, boy. You left me when you wanted to die."   
  
Harry's heart sank; a ton of ice settled in his stomach. He could feel his face paling as he spoke. "You're… you're the Dark Lord."   
  
Lily made a small sound of disbelief. But when Riddle smiled, a slow, sneering smile that cut across his face with frightful familiarity, the room fell into a fitful silence. For a long moment, not even soft breathing could be heard.   
  
Abruptly, Sirius jerked his arm back with a snarl, looking ready to smash Riddle's face in with his bare hands but Lily firmly held him back.   
  
Riddle barely acknowledged him, eyes fixed on Harry unblinkingly. "The snake found you then."   
  
Harry froze, the memory of those words coming to him in a haze.   
  
_ You have already lost…   
  
You have nothing left to lose…   
  
_ "That…" Harry choked out, taking a small step back. "That wasn't a dream?"   
  
Sirius jerked around to face him, eyes wide with an emotion akin to disappointment. But Harry couldn't bring himself to face his godfather or his father for keeping such a secret so deeply hidden.   
  
"I'm amazed at your foolishness, boy," Riddle said, holding Harry's gaze unflinchingly. "I didn't realize that until after I gave you the warning in a dream, telling you of my victory, telling you that I was the one who had the rest of you."   
  
"What?!" Sirius snarled.   
  
"You told no one," Riddle continued, not even sparing a glance Sirius' way. "for reasons of your own."   
  
Sirius held his tongue, but his entire body trembled with suppressed anger. James had gone deathly pale; Harry was sure his grip was bruising. Lily's eyes were wide, a hand at her mouth in shock.   
  
"You're going to die soon, The-Boy-Who-Lived," Riddle spat out the name bitterly. "You are going to be trapped forever."   
  
Sirius paled, stumbling slightly on unsteady feet. James suddenly broke at those words. He wrapped an arm around Harry, crushing him against his chest, turning a wand at Riddle.   
  
"Let Harry go," James hissed, his wand hand shaking.   
  
Riddle seemed unfazed, he acknowledged only Harry himself. But Harry's mind was still reeling in shock. Sirius will be gone soon, he'll never see his godfather again. Or Ron. Or Hermione. Despite the reassuring thoughts of finally being able to be with his parents, Harry couldn't hold back a pang of regret.   
  
But Harry couldn't let that show with Riddle calmly scrutinize him. Harry forced himself to return Tom's gaze firmly, maybe even a bit obstinately. Instinctively, he straightened, extracting himself from James's so that he no longer stood in his father's protection.   
  
"I want it back," Harry said firmly. His voice was unwavering; it rang clear in the small room. "I want what you've taken from me back."   
  
Thomas' thin lips twitched again, and soon, high pitched laughter was echoing across the walls. James grasped Harry's arm, making the motion of dragging him back, but Harry caught his hand, giving it a small squeeze. James looked at him sharply, but Harry shook his head, taking a step towards his archenemy's father. He drew his wand with a steady hand, pointing it at the taller man.   
  
"You think you can kill me?" Riddle said. The gleam in his eye mirrored that of his son's almost perfectly. "I don't think so, Harry Potter. You can't make me return it to you by force. I have to give it to you willingly."   
  
"What?"   
  
"Oh Harry, Harry, Harry," Riddle shook his head, eyes twinkling with amusement. "You gave yourself willingly. I must give it back to you the same way.   
  
Harry swallowed, mouth going dry. "What… what do you want?"   
  
"A proof of your worthiness," Riddle said as he took long strides forward. James followed suit, wand drawn warningly, but Riddle only watched him with contempt. He offered Harry a smooth, youthful hand. "Come, lets discuss this elsewhere."   
  
"Harry's not going anywhere," James growled out.   
  
"Well then, he can stay dead," Riddle said smoothly. "I'm certainly not going to give him a second chance."   
  
James scowled in anger, but said nothing. Riddle smiled, blending low to whisper in Harry's ear.   
  
"Don't you know? Impartial spirits don't stay impartial that long. If you don't return soon, you'll never be able to again. I'm surprised you defied that for so long. Even after ten days of death, you managed to keep those doors of life open," Riddle sneered, standing up again and flicking an invisible speck of lint from his flawless robes. "What do you say, Harry?"   
  
Harry paled, his mind a whirlwind of emotions.   
  
A brittle silence settled in the room, with Lily wide eyed, watching her son worriedly, James' hand trembling with suppressed fury, and Sirius straining under Lily's death grip.   
  
Harry swallowed nervously. It was his only chance; besides, there was nothing to lose. It was the one chance he had to see Ron and Hermione again, the one chance he had against Voldemort. But what about his parents?   
  
He glanced at his father, but James' blatant concern and apprehension for him made him look down again. His brown eyes were openly apologizing, guilty for the times he couldn't be there, and would never be there. His mother looked torn for having to let go her newly found son, but they bore a hard determination. His parents didn't want him to die, Harry realized. But living would mean losing them again.   
  
But dying would mean losing everyone he knew. And how would Sirius manage? Harry turned to his godfather, taking in the gaunt and pale features. Harry had seen the toll his death took on him. He could hardly imagine the pain everyone else was going through. Sirius returned the gaze searchingly, as if trying to read his thoughts. Harry gave him a small smile.   
  
"I'm sorry," he told him. _For making you miserable. For making everyone sad. If I fail, please go on your life without me._   
  
Taking a deep breath, he grasped the outstretched hand. Instantly, he shivered. The hand was like ice that spread cold water through his veins. Wind rushed into the room, whipping at his clothes and knocking plates to the floor. Distantly, he could hear the voices of crying out to him. He opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out. The floor beneath him was soft and wet. It pulled at his leg like collagulated mud. Harry looked down and his stomach all but disappeared.   
  
It was the marsh.   
  
  
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
  
  
I know Lily didn't play a large part in the story, but I really have a hard time balancing the duties of a mother and father. Putting them together would be too much, and introducing them one at a time would be too tedious.   
  
This chapter was way too crowded, but if I divided it, it would have been too short. Originally, the last bit of conversation was somewhere else… but then I realized it was too close to the beginning of the story. Oh well.   
  



	23. cheating defeat

Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.   
  
a/n ack, plot holes! While I was editing, I chopped out a scene on accident and that was why the marsh made no sense. There was an incident in which James was explaining he traveled every inch of the Land of the Dead, and there are only trees and a mountain. Harry asks about the marsh he first saw when he died, and James said there isn't one, and no one ever saw one. Harry, of course, is bewildered.   
  
the author's note for the previous chapter was typed back in May, so... Playing Life has gone down the sever. *sigh* I'm so sorry!   
  
once again, I apologize for the long delay! This chapter is unrevised, and was written back in May, so the style is very different. *sigh* Well, donnuo... it seems that no one minded before... but... ack! its style isn't... humm... *sigh* When I read it over, it just... lacks something. Like the overall story isn't... fulfilling. But it's either post draft of let die, so...   
  
ack! I can't reply to any reviews! I'm so sorry!! I'll answer everything by the epilogues! I'm suppose to be doing an SAT practice exam right now in my room, but... *cackles evilly*   
  
CoS chapter 8 is taking longer than usual since I'm sort of... grounded. I could post the chapter as 4 pages, or wait 2 days for it to complete to its usual 7. It's up to you!   
  
  
  
**Cheating Death**  
By neutral   
  
  
  
Chapter twenty-seven - cheating a father   
  
  
  
"I can't believe this!" Lily choked out, burying her face in her hands. "All this time, it was Thomas! We never even suspected… he didn't tell us… he just took his hand…"   
  
"It was his only chance, and Harry knew," James whispered softly, looking dazed. "He has grown up, hasn't he? He doesn't need us anymore."   
  
"Why didn't he tell us?" Lily continued.   
  
James shook his head, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes wearily. "I was there when he woke up… I knew something was wrong then, but…"   
  
He stood up abruptly, and began to pace the room, trying to distract himself with the whitewashed walls. But even then, his hands shook, his face ghastly white.   
  
Sirius was silent, eyes still fixed on the floor where Harry vanished in a gust of wind and mist. He could seem to forget those green eyes that Harry turned to him with before gripping the hand of Voldemort's father. They were almost pleading, he couldn't help but think those words of apology were for him. Harry seemed to feel an obligation for blaming himself for everything.   
  
"Harry will be okay," Sirius choked out, despite the protest in his head. More than anything, he wanted to be there to help him, make sure that everything would be alright. "Harry's been through these things before."   
  
James stopped pacing, staring at Sirius with an unreadable expression, but Lily looked pained.   
  
"How can you say that?" she said angrily, wiping tears from her eyes. "Harry could be in pain right now! He could be tortured!"   
  
At that, Sirius could feel the fragile walls crumbling away, an overwhelming rush of emotions flooding his mind. "I want to be there too! Every time Harry's in trouble, I always have to watch. I've never been able to do anything! Don't you think I want to be there? Don't you think I want to help him?" Sirius took a raspy breath, sinking into a chair and burying his face in his hands. Lily looked at him, stunned. "I've never been able to do anything for him," Sirius continued, his voice muffled and strained. "He died for me, and I've never done anything to deserve it!"   
  
James glanced at Sirius sharply, unnerved by the darkness that haunted his friend's clear blue eyes.   
  
"Harry forgives you," James finally said.   
  
"Harry always forgave me," Sirius whispered bitterly. "He'd forgive anything! He would have forgiven me if I had strangled him to death!"   
  
Lily took a shuddering gasp, at a loss for words on how to comfort her friend and unable to speak at the same time. James was still frozen in the middle of the living room, eyes fixed on Sirius' unmoving form. He drew a shaky breath, face setting in grim determination that mirrored his son's with frightening similarity. He pulled the hand away from Sirius' face, kneeing to meet his best friend's gaze.   
  
"Sirius, I have another favor to ask of you."   
  
Sirius glanced at his friend in surprise, "James , this is hardly the time…"   
  
"No," James said firmly. "I've been thinking about this for days already. Will you?"   
  
"Of course," Sirius still carried a look of perplexity, but he was determined to redeem himself for his past.   
  
James nodded but looked more pensive than relieved. He pulled up a chair to face his friend. He seemed to be trying to put his thoughts into words, but the entire endeavor was taxing him. Finally, he drew a deep breath.   
  
"Sirius, I want you to take my place."   
  
The meaning of those words flew right over Sirius' head; for a long moment, he only stared.   
  
"James, I don't think Lily will be too happy about that," he said, trying to decide whether it was a strange joke that James was trying to pull. How could he tease in such a situation?   
  
James slapped the side of Sirius' head in exasperation, "Padfoot! Will you get your head out of the gutter for a moment? That wasn't what I meant," he sighed, leaning back in his chair. Whatever he was trying to say seemed to be something he dreaded. "Take my place for Harry."   
  
Stunned, Sirius could only stare at his friend.   
  
"Can't have Lily though. Sorry Padfoot, she's mine," James continued, forcing a weak smile. Those words seemed to have taken a heavy burden from his shoulders, but the worry for his son left a dark shadow over his face.   
  
But Sirius was still speechless. How much did it cost James, to voluntarily step away? How much self control did it take, for a father to let go of his son?   
  
"James," Sirius choked out. "I can't."   
  
James friend sighed; he had already expected him to protest.   
  
"I've already taken so much from you," Sirius continued, looking pained. "I…"   
  
"I will punch you if you say that again, okay?" James whispered, but his eyes betrayed his reluctance. "I know Harry means a lot to you. I know that you want nothing more than to be his father. You're just afraid of upsetting me."   
  
"What if Harry loses?" Sirius said hoarsely. "What if he doesn't win and he has to die?   
  
James sighed again, "You said yourself that Harry's strong. He won't lose. You're too important to him. He won't leave you behind."   
  
Sirius watched his friend lean back in his chair, eyes dark with unspoken thoughts as he stared at the whitewashed ceiling.   
  
_ How was that possible? Would Harry really abandon his family just because of his godfather?   
  
_ "Sirius, admit it, you're afraid of losing Harry," James said, glaring at Sirius pointedly.   
  
Sirius drew a sharp breath, hands trembling as he grasped the edges of his chair. "James, you have no idea… what it was like, to see him… running forward towards the curse. He looked so… desperate. Like he had lost. Like the entire world was crashing down over him. And then when it struck him…," Sirius broke off, eyes brimming with unshed tears. He rubbed his face angrily, breaking the gaze.   
  
Beside him, James was silent. But from his uneven breathing, he was shaken as well. The knuckles were bloodless on his tightly clinched fist, and a tremor raked his body.   
  
"You can't lose him, Padfoot," James whispered, his voice trembling as he laid a reassuring hand on Sirius' shoulder.   
  
"I was the one who forced him into this situation to begin with," Sirius choked out. "If I hadn't…"   
  
"Sirius, you know as well as I do that isn't true!" James said, a bit harsher than he intended. When Sirius didn't respond, he continued, his voice softer, "When Harry returns, he'll need a loving parent."   
  
Sirius choked on a gasp, covering his face with his hands. He had always been worried about stealing Harry from his father, his best friend, no less! But with James offering such a sacrifice so willingly, it seemed to be more painful than ever. He moved to stand up, but James stopped him.   
  
"Listen, Sirius, Harry considers you more of a father than me," James looked calm despite his words. His face was a carefully restrained mask.   
  
"James, I'm sorry…," Sirius whispered hoarsely.   
  
"No, don't be sorry. I couldn't be there. I can't be there," James said, the mistiness returning to his eyes. "Harry loves me because of what I represent to him. He hears all these stories, of how much he looks like his father. Of how much he acts like his father. But I never really knew my own son, Sirius."   
  
"But I can't take your place!" Sirius shot back, head still downcast. "It'll be unfair."   
  
"Sirius, I was never at my place! You were," James smiled sadly. "If Harry turns away from you because of me, then that'll be unfair."   
  
Sirius stilled, face still hidden. James had voiced his deepest fear since he had arrived. But his friend had understood. Sirius couldn't suppress and a small sigh. All those days, he had been afraid of taking James place for Harry, it was what James had wanted all along.   
  
Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but his resolve were becoming weaker. "James, I…"   
  
"Sirius, you saw!" James interrupted, looking at his friend's downcast face intently. "When something happens, you're the first person Harry goes to. He doesn't know how I'll react. I'm not even sure I can understand if Harry comes to me with a problem. Sirius, admit it, you'll be a better father than me."   
  
Sirius shook his head angrily. "I can't say that!"   
  
"At least, try to be Harry's family, okay?" James' voice carried a pleading tone.   
  
There was a long pause. Sirius finally nodded, a relieved sigh hidden in his hands. Now, there was only Harry.   
  
_Please, please, please be alright. Sirius silently pleaded. I can't lose you again._   
  
  
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
  
  
Okay, in case you were wondering, yes, the last bit of the conversation was actually something I wrote for chapter 20, but I cropped it and ditched it in chapter 24 since I realized it was too early. I'm sorry, it really doesn't fit, and I don't really think they'd be talking about things like that with Harry's life hanging by a line. Especially since James seems amazingly calm for a father. But my only explanation is that James places far more trust in Harry than Sirius. He carried that trust throughout the entire story. Plus, he knows a spirit can't die, so he doesn't have that sort of dread. humm... but CD in general lacks the believeability that WS, PoM, and CoS has, even though the situation in CoS should be less believable. Ack. But CD was my first story... *sigh* guess this was a hit and miss sort of thing.   
  
I was in a rush to get the story over with! I thought I dragged it out way too long, any longer and I'd be in danger of never finishing it. I don't care how it works out, if worse comes to worst, I'll rewrite it later. But right now, I'm itching to write the epilogue! *cackle* Sirius, Remus, and Harry, plus more explanations, plus Ron, Hermione, and Snape. I've been waiting forever to get to that! *dances*   
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter twenty-eight - cheating defeat   
  
  
  
Harry tugged at the muck swallowing his legs, but it felt like walking through thick sand. Every movement made his legs sink deeper; by the time the mud had pooled around his knees, Harry finally settled on staying still. He fished the wand out of his pocket.   
  
"_Lumos_," he whispered, and lifted the light above his head.   
  
The dim glow illuminated the marshland like an small cloud. All around him stretched a sea of darkness. It wasn't a marshland, it was a muddy ocean, Harry noted with a sinking heart.   
  
"Behind you, boy," came a cold draw.   
  
Harry spun around, swaying when his leg sank deeper. He twisted his neck awkwardly, unable to move the lower part of his body.   
  
Riddle stood above the muck as if he was walking on solid around. The light threw dark shadows across his stern face, filling it with malice and mystery.   
  
"What am I suppose to do with my legs stuck in this stuff?" Harry asked angrily. The imagine of Riddle standing straight while half his body was sunken irritated him.   
  
Riddle sneered, bending down condescendingly to give Harry an amused stare. "Duel."   
  
Harry couldn't contain his cry of shock, anger, and frustration. It was completely unjust. He was immobile, logged into some thick mud and barely able to see his enemy without turning, and Riddle expects him to duel?   
  
"How am I suppose to know if I win?" Harry asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You could be lying."   
  
"I will disappear from your sight if you win," Riddle waved his hand carelessly. It was clear that he never expected it to happen.   
  
But as the man drew out a gleaming stick from the folds of his cloak, Harry's mind reeled in confusion.   
  
"Wait, you're a muggle!" Harry said, glanced up at the taller man. "How can you use a wand?"   
  
Riddle's face twisted in anger. "The curse of being a shadow of the wielder falls on the first spirit the wand takes," he snarled, pulling up the sleeve of his robe to reveal a pale scar on the inside of his left wrist. It was a thin, barely noticeable brand of a snake, entwined in a circle engulfing its own tail. He held it as if it was the root of a disease. "I was forced to spend my time with the freaks like you, sharing their abnormalities, its disgusting."   
  
Harry could feel rage boiling in his mind at those words. He sounded so much like the Dursleys, it made him more angry than ever. He could almost see Uncle Vernon's face sneering back at him through Riddle's. The frustration hidden through all those years of neglect at his relatives cracked.   
  
Harry made an enraged snarl, gripping the edge of Riddle's robe and giving it a sharp tug. Caught by surprise, the man stumbled forward. The leverage freed Harry's legs, and he backed away quickly, trying to put some distance between them.   
  
Riddle growled, barely catching himself before he fell face forward in the mud. He pointed his wand just as Harry dashed out of the way. There was a burst of red light and the sky was filled with a shower of thick black mud.   
  
Harry could feel the brush of a hot iron just as the streak of light passed. He stared at Riddle in shock. No words or spell was spoken. How?   
  
A sharp scalding heat on his hand drew him out of his reverie. Harry cried out, grasping his left arm as flames licked at it painfully.   
  
Riddle didn't need to speak words for spells, Harry realized. There was no way for him to predict it.   
  
"_Stupefy_!" he shouted, biting back a grimace of pain.   
  
Riddle sidestepped the curse with ease. But something in his expression told him that Riddle wasn't even trying. He was playing with Harry the way a cat plays with a mouse before it swallows it whole.   
  
Harry didn't wait for the next curse to come his way. He just ran, but it was hopeless. There was no shelter. There was no portkey. There was no gravestone. It was just him, all alone. Even a couple of Death Eaters would be comforting, at least those were easy targets.   
  
A stream of light flew overhead, forcing Harry to duck to his knees. He spun around to meet Riddle's light brown eyes, shining with amusement. He had missed on purpose, Harry realized with a sinking heart. He was having fun!   
  
That made the bubble of anger inflate even more. Harry threw a couple of hexes his way, silently thanking all those tutor sessions with Ron and Hermione before the Third Task. But his rage rapidly became horror when the spells struck empty space and deflected in wild directions. Just as Harry was about to shout the disarming curse, the balls of light froze and hovered before changing direction in the mid air. They all sprang towards him, even faster than before. Harry cried out, jumping aside to dodge. He managed to avoid most of them, but a stray ball of light the size of a marble struck him sharply at his side. There was a soft tingling when the world titled at a strange angle. Harry could feel his legs melting like rubber beneath him, snapping in odd angles. He stumbled to the ground, felled by his own jelly leg hex. Harry couldn't be more ashamed.   
  
Harry twisted into a sitting position, stomach clenching painfully when he noticed Riddle quickly advancing. He barely finished the counter curse before the man had raised his wand again. Harry scrambled to his feet and missed the attack by a hair.   
  
Harry hissed under his breath as he took advantage of the rain of muck to put some distance between him and the enemy. This was absolutely hopeless! What sort of spell reverses the opponent's hexes?   
  
As far as he was concerned, Voldemort's father was far more frightening than Voldemort himself. The only advantage that he could see was that his scar wasn't splitting his head open with pain.   
  
A sharp pain in his ankle made him stagger and fall. The force made his knees sink into the mud, but miraculously, his glasses remained secure on his face. He spun around, trying not to expose his back. One glance at Riddle's face told him he was enjoying himself immensely.   
  
"You bastard…" Harry snarled, the anger in his voice surprising even himself.   
  
Riddle didn't respond or didn't hear. He raised his wand almost carelessly, and instinctively, Harry shouted a shield charm.   
  
The curse shattered his flimsy barrier with ease, but much of its power was lost. A sharp wind rushed into his face leaving a shallow cut on his cheek, but the rest of the curse was destroyed. Before Harry could raise another shield, an invisible hand rammed into him and sent him flying.   
  
He landed on the soft ground soundlessly, ribs screaming with abuse. Harry bit back a cry of pain, all thoughts of resistance lost. Dimly, he noticed a burly figure approach, hand outstretched with a polished slab of wood clutched tightly in his fingers.   
  
Another flick of his wrist sent Harry sprawling on the ground again, the force burying him partly in the soggy soil. Harry barely had time to react before his body burst with pain. Fire gored in his bones, needles ran in his blood, all his organs felt like they were trying to tear from his body. Screams echoed in his ears, and it took a while for him to realize they were his own. The mud was plastering to his skin, his legs were sinking in the soft earth, but Harry didn't notice. All he feel was the fire eating at his body and the overwhelming sense of helplessness and defeat.   
  
  
  
  
  
"Something's not right."   
  
Lily turned to him looking as if the world below her had been ripped away. James stiffened, the calm demeanor rapidly crumbling.   
  
"How do you know?" James asked softly, voice strained.   
  
Sirius frowned, shaking his head in confusion. He wasn't sure how he knew. It was just that growing unease that stirred in the back of his mind that bothered him to no end. Harry's in trouble, it kept whispering. He needs help. Help him!   
  
Sirius shuddered, gripping his wand tighter. "I have to go to him."   
  
James shook his head, turning his eyes away sadly. "Sirius, it's not going to work. Casting that charm a second time would probably kill you…"   
  
"No, you don't understand!" Sirius hissed angrily, giving the dinner table a sharp kick. "I have this strange feeling. Like Harry's trying to tell me something… like…"   
  
"Sirius, fretting around isn't going to help him at all!" James interrupted angrily, running a hand through his hair in exasperation.   
  
"We have to do something!" Sirius shot back.   
  
"Like what?" James yelled. The fear of losing his son and the sense of helplessness was driving his patience to a breaking point. "Sirius, the only thing we could think of was the charm, and it doesn't work on spirits. You're going to die if you try it again, either that or get trapped at whatever place Harry is in now. Dying isn't going to solve anything!"   
  
"I don't care! I…"   
  
"Sirius, Harry will never leave if you die!"   
  
"Will you two just calm down?" Lily interjected, looking just as frightened as the two men.   
  
"Harry's in trouble and all you can…"   
  
"Sirius!" Lily slapped her hand down on the table hard, "We are all worried for Harry. But getting killed would be condemning Harry hundreds of times over with the same guilt that plagued you!"   
  
The room fell into an uneasy silence. Sirius paced the small room quickly, looking ready to burn a hole through the wood. He seemed determined to take the risk at all costs. James clicked his wand, fidgeting with the edge of the table cloth nervously. Lily suddenly gasped, eyes wide in shock.   
  
"Sirius, your hands!" she said hoarsely.   
  
Perplexed, Sirius glanced at his hands, lifting them to the light. James drew a sharp breath.   
  
His hands were translucent. He could see the ceiling through them. His finger tips were fading, as if someone had taken an invisibility cloak and threw small bits and pieces over them. The clearness was spreading slowly until his hands were no longer visible, and half of his arm was missing.   
  
"What's going on?" Sirius choked out. Strangely, the force left no pain, just a sense of numbness that spread in his veins. "I'm suppose to have three more days!"   
  
"Sirius!" James grasped his shoulder desperately, afraid of losing his best friend again. But his hand slid right through his flesh.   
  
Horrified, Sirius reached out to grab his hand, but he had no arms. He had no legs. He had no body. A muffled cry escaped his lips before the numbness overwhelmed him and darkness flooded his vision.   
  
  
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
  
  
Is it hard to follow or anything?   
  



	24. cheating Sirius

Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.   
  
a/n this chapter is dedicated to VeryWildWitch for reviewing every single chapter of Cheating Death! It was a huge surprise to sign on and see CD's review count jump like that.   
  
  
  
**Cheating Death**  
By neutral   
  
  
  
Chapter twenty-nine - cheating Sirius   
  
  
  
The pain left as abruptly as it came. For a long time, Harry could only lean against the wet ground, gasping for air. But as the fog from his mind cleared and the world swam back into focus, Harry suddenly realized he was lying completely vulnerable against the ground. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to stand. The ground swayed violently for a moment as Harry took several deep, steadying breaths.   
  
It was then Harry realized Riddle wasn't paying any attention to him at all. He was staring at something over Harry's head with an expression of shock. Not intending to let this opportunity slip, Harry raised his wand with a shaking hand.   
  
"_Stupefy_!"   
  
Oddly, the spell that escaped from his wand wasn't the stunning spell at all. It was a burst of raw magic that struck Riddle squarely in the chest, inciting a high pitched scream of pain and disbelief. The force knocked his enemy to his knees, shoulders heaving as he caught his breath. Harry spun around to see what was behind him and nearly cried out in a mixture of relief and confusion.   
  
"Sirius?!" Harry tried to say, but instead, a raspy cough escaped his lips. His throat was raw and grainy.   
  
Sirius looked just as stunned as he, but when his eyes caught the sight of his godson, all the confusion vanished from his face.   
  
"Harry, thank god you're okay," he whispered, genuine relief shining through his eyes. Obviously, Harry noted, he hadn't seen anything before that. Sirius suddenly froze, the relief rapidly turning into terror. "Harry…!"   
  
But the warning came too late. A searing pain ripped at his chest, grinding his flesh like a blade. Harry couldn't bite back a cry of pain as he fell to his knees. But before he could even catch a breath, another curse slammed into him like ten Dudleys charging downstairs. He rammed into something bony, but the momentum sent them both crashing to the ground.   
  
  
  
  
  
Sirius dragged himself into a sitting position despite his aching ribs, pulling Harry into a protective embrace as he directed his wand at Riddle. He scowled, daring the enemy to come closer. Harry shivered against him, and Sirius had a vague idea he wasn't coherent yet. His hand shook in bitter anger as he glared at the lanky man with frustratingly innocent features.   
  
"Bastard," he hissed, narrowing his eyes at Riddle. "Don't you dare hurt him…"   
  
Riddle recovered his shock of seeing Sirius rather quickly. Instead, he folded his arms, straightening in a haughty manner that was disturbingly reminiscent of his son. "I can't be killed by something not of my realm. I'm not a fool, I know a spirit when I see one. You are not a dead spirit."   
  
Sirius swallowed back an enraged retort, and drew Harry deeper into the folds of his cloak. He slowly edged to his feet, keeping his godson shielded as he warily backed away.   
  
"I must admit, I was quite surprised to see you here. Quite the spell that Dumbledore offered you, binding you to that boy like that," Riddle's lip twitched in the mockery of a smile, shaking his head in sympathy. "It's pity he can't defend himself."   
  
"Harry's far stronger than you'll ever be," Sirius snapped impulsively, indignant rage building at Thomas' snide remark.   
  
Thomas remained impassive; only a small twitch of his left eye signaled that he heard at all. He stood as firm and as stoic as before, and Sirius could feel his anxiety growing. Riddle was far more composed than his son, and it made him far more dangerous.   
  
"Well, so they say," Thomas said finally, carelessly flicking his eyes skyward. "It'll be interesting to add him to my collection."   
  
Sirius inwardly cringed in rage and disbelief. Arm tightening around Harry defensively, Sirius took another step back. "You're sick. You're worse than your son!" he spat, hand gripping his wand so firmly that it trembled. "Harry isn't some… thing you can do this to! He's…"   
  
"… just like the rest of them," Thomas broke in, suddenly looking irritated. But even his anger burned cold in his eyes. "A freak, a monster, a wandering spirit that just happens to lack the rest of himself. What difference does it make whether he dies or not?"   
  
"Is this a game to you?" Sirius almost shouted in aggravation.   
  
"If he hadn't defeated that snake, I wouldn't even bother with him," Riddle whispered without a flicker of emotion. "But that boy… well, to say he's a disappointment is an understatement."   
  
Sirius inwardly seethed; Riddle looked almost… amused. Gritting his teeth, Sirius pointed his wand and flung some of the nastiest curses he could remember   
  
The streams of various colors struck an invisible barrier solidly, bouncing back at various angles. He could hear the dull thud of each hit. Riddle didn't even move, watching the two with a small smile. Suddenly, the curses stopped as if time was frozen around it, every single one turning towards him faster and stronger than before. Sirius blindly dodged, Harry limp and unresponsive against his shoulder, his mind a whirlwind of confusion.   
  
_ How could he deflect them? Those spells require different counter curses, yet Riddle hadn't even spoken a word!   
  
_ A vicious curse snagged his heel like fingernails eating into his flesh. Sirius staggered onto the thick, mucky ground and in the impulsive spurred by raw desperation, hauled himself defensively over his godson. The pain came in white hot waves; instinctively, he bit his lip to keep from crying out. It was his stubborn pride that held him back, but the curse felt like nails under every inch of his skin, his body convulsed and a scream of complete agony ripped from his throat.   
  
  
  
  
  
Harry jolted awake as the first shout cut into his reverie like a burning knife. The previous haze of unconsciousness dissipated in an instant when Sirius jerked and twisted like a cloth puppet in a child's hands, his entire body writhing in agony as the curses struck. It only took a moment for realization so slam over him. Harry struggled to push the taller man out of the way of the attack, but Sirius had him in a death grip. His hand tightened on his arm painfully each second.   
  
_ Stop! he wanted to say. Don't do this!   
  
_ Sirius' scream sank into silence, but Harry could feel the warm sticky blood running onto his arms and staining his robes. Harry trembled violently beneath the folds of the cloak.   
  
"Stop!" Harry screamed, squeezing his eyes tightly shut.   
  
Sirius fell limp, the grip around Harry relenting. He slumped to the floor weakly, eyes closed and breath raspy. He looked inches from unconsciousness. Harry squirmed out of his godfather's grasp, shielding Sirius as best as he could when he looked at Riddle apprehensively.   
  
He was shocked to discover a golden film between them. It was translucent, but gave everything a yellow hue of sunlight, and it rapped around the two like a protective bubble. Riddle scowled, and oddly, didn't attack. It took a second glance for Harry to recognize the thin barrier as a shield, but as to how it came he was too distracted to care.   
  
Sirius stirred, face contorted in pain.   
  
"Sirius!" Harry whispered urgently, tentatively touching his shoulder.   
  
His blue eyes snapped open, trying to drag his sluggish limps to move. Harry placed a restraining hand on Sirius' shoulder, but pulled away quickly when Sirius made a small hiss of pain.   
  
"Harry," Sirius sighed in relief when he caught sight of his godson.   
  
Harry shook his head angrily, the fear and apprehension of the threat slipping away at the wave of worry. "Why? Why are you here? You shouldn't be here!"   
  
Sirius' glare was equally stubborn. "I'm not… going to let anything happen to you again!" Sirius growled out, gasping as he fought to catch his breath. He sounded determined despite the extreme paleness of his face, and the blood running in rivers from his face. "I'll be damned if he hurts you!"   
  
"No! Sirius, get out of here! Riddle doesn't want to fight you," Harry whispered. There were hints of plea in his voice that surprised them both, but Harry was too desperate to care.   
  
But Sirius' eyes hardened even more at the echo of Harry's words at the Riddle House. It was too similar, too frighteningly similar. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself into a sitting position, pushing aside Harry's restraining hand.   
  
A flicker of gold tore him from his thoughts. Sirius blinked in surprise when he noticed the thin layer of color surrounding them. "A shield? Did you…?" Sirius trailed off when he noticed Harry's equally baffled expression. But his expression darkened as he examined the material. "This isn't going to last. When it flickers, make a run for it."   
  
"What about you?" Harry nervously asked.   
  
"I'll distract him," Sirius said with firm resolve.   
  
"But he's my only chance!" Harry almost shouted in disbelief, hand clenching into a fist around his wand.   
  
Sirius gripped Harry's shoulders and gave him a rough shake. "You aren't going to win against someone like him, Harry! It doesn't matter, just get back safely."   
  
"No!" Harry shook off Sirius' hand almost angrily. "I'm going to try!"   
  
Sirius' expression tensed with a flash of regret and pain, but the next words of retort died in his throat as a ripple of white clouded the shield for a second. The barrier cracked and died, melting like rain water against glass. Sirius staggered to his feet, dragging Harry behind him.   
  
"Run," he hissed under his breath. "I'll hold him off. Just run!"   
  
Harry nearly choked at the statement, wondering desperately if Sirius knew at all the meaning of those words. The urge to stay despite the consequences was almost overwhelming, but apart of him knew that he couldn't win against an enemy like Riddle no matter how frantic his attempts were. But running would mean leaving Sirius behind, leaving him behind to die…   
  
But Sirius wasn't dead! He was suppose to be alive, he was suppose to be alive all along. He never deserved any of this…   
  
Noticing his reluctance, Sirius gave him a shove that nearly threw him to the ground.   
  
"Run!" he shouted.   
  
He flung a couple of harmless hexes, anticipating the response. They were aimed only to disrupt and distract, not actually to defeat. Sirius dodged a couple of curses sluggishly, the pervious injuries were catching up with him.   
  
Harry stood frozen, unable to turn away. Every now and then, Sirius would give him an angry glare and Harry would take a step back, but that distraction soon took its toll. As Sirius turned glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, a well aimed curse struck him squarely and shredded the skin on his arm like cloth. Blood rushed from the abused skin, staining the entire arm a brilliant red. Sirius bit back a cry, clutching at his wand arm as he fell to his knees.   
  
That was the last straw. Something within him snapped, and Harry could feel the anger like hot flames in his mind. There was a rush of heat spreading through his blood, licking at his hands and fingers. Harry could almost sense the wind rustle around him in the dead land.   
  
"Stop!" Harry shouted, pointing his wand at Riddle's exposed back.   
  
His enemy spun around to face him, surprise etched in his features. Without warning, an unseen force seemed to ensnare him and drag him into the earth. Riddle shrieked in disbelief, writhing as mud caught his legs like hands, pulling him down.   
  
"You freak!" Riddle glared at him, entire body trembling with unsuppressed anger. "You did this!"   
  
Harry watched, stunned. He hadn't even said a spell. How could it be possible?   
  
"I… I didn't…," Harry dazedly whispered, eyes wide as he watched the ground swallow his enemy in a twisted imitation of an animal devouring its meal.   
  
With an enraged snarl, he turned to Sirius, still slumped against the floor looking weak at the loss of blood. The next moments felt like eternity, every movement sluggish and every sound muffled. Harry watched in horror as a light burst from Riddle's wand and Sirius looking up, dazed and deathly pale. He tried to shout a warning, but no sound came. He tried to rush forward, but his legs were heavy and slow. The light touched Sirius' head almost tenderly, spreading like a spider's web over his body. It pulsed and thickened as if it had a life of its own.   
  
And then he was gone, fading away as if he was a color washed away from a canvas.   
  
Harry watched in numb disbelief. He could still see that look of calm acceptance as the curse came his way, eyes flickering to Harry for the briefest of moments before closing peacefully.   
  
_ Sirius was gone. Sirius was gone. He was gone! He was dead, all because of him!   
  
_ "No…" Harry choked out, sinking to his knees. His wand trembled violently in his hand.   
  
_ It was impossible. It wasn't possible!   
  
_ A hollow laughter echoed through the marsh. Harry turned his empty eyes to Riddle's, the look in his brown eyes bore sickening satisfaction that sliced him to the bone.   
  
"You…" Harry hissed, the grief, pain, and disbelief became fury. White hot rage that felt like acid in his blood. "What did you do to him? What did you do? You… this is your fault! He wasn't suppose to be dead! He… what did you do?"   
  
The fire in his body was filling every inch of his skin. Even his eyes seemed to burn as he raised his wand. A burst of red light streamed from its tip, looking as if it was on fire itself. The wand shook beneath his fingers, a hot bar of metal in his hand. It was burning his very skin, but Harry couldn't seem to let it go. All Harry wanted was to kill him. Nothing else in the world mattered.   
  
But as the fiery light streaked towards Riddle, the wand in his hand shook even harder. The wood was so hot it was beginning to smother. Pieces of it fell to the ground in blackened bits. Harry could see the glowing light of the phoenix feather, illuminating the air around him lighter than any fire.   
  
Riddle howled in agony even as the fire neared, already sensing the pain. It met his hand first, igniting his wand like a small useless stick, and his entire body went up in flames. Riddle shrieked, a blood curling shriek that felt like nails against the pavement, and the ground opened up like a mouth. There was no warning, no anticipation. Riddle couldn't even react when the earth parted beside him and swallowed him whole.   
  
The fire of his spell died with him, vanishing as suddenly as it came, leaving Harry a handful of ashes in place of his wand. The phoenix feather was fading, flickering brightly every now and then before dimming again. It trembled in his hand then crumbled like the rest of the wood into a fine white dust.   
  
Harry sank to his knees, barely registering the cool ground below him. The sea of darkness stretched endlessly for miles. He was alone.   
  
  
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
  
  
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/neutrallized - a mailing list for updates! so far, the setting is under moderated posting. Only moderators can post, since I didn't want people getting emails they weren't interested in getting. But if people want the mL open to discussion, regardless of getting a some annoying mail, then feel free to tell me and I'll change the settings!   
  
Err… the majority of Cheating Death is… umm… well... ack! Coming back to read the story is scary and very embarrassing, but leaving it incomplete is probably worse. *sigh* I'm not going to bash! *repeats continously* But if you have criticisms, please go right ahead! It's understandable considering this chapter, well... beyond the cliffhanger part *hides*   
  
*eyes budge* oh my god! rubie has a blog layout with Sirius as the feature!! It's a fanart, very, very animeish, but it looks _good_! *eyes fall out* *screams* I want that layout! I'm going to steal that... *plots and schemes* oh wait, here's the link: www.feffi.net/foxfire ACCCCCCCCCCCCCK! I think I'll just stick with writing from now on, and forget my pathetic attempts in art.   
  
*hides* well, these chapters weren't as good as CoS and PoM, Sandrine Black! It was sort of embarrassing. You know, cliffhangers are addicting once in a while, Avelera. Ack! They're evil, aren't they? Sorry these took so long, Lily Potter!   
  
I'm glad to see you back, Lily of the Valley! I read your story last night but didn't review, and I'm going to review very soon today. Meanwhile, looks like I'll have to resort to pestering you or holding you at blackmail for updating SR. How about... I won't post anything for PoM until you post for SR? *cackles*   
  
humm... Kaydee, I don't know, but for some reason, I can't connect with Lily as well as James, Remus, and Sirius. Maybe it's because Rowling never really addressed her past the fact that she saved Harry with her love. James, Sirius, and Remus were pretty obvious, and they're interesting too since they were so fun loving. But Lily... well, Petunia referred to her as 'perfect' and that's not very easy to connect with. As for the pillow fight scene, maybe its because I have a problem with my characters being happy. But... oh no, I didn't just admit to that! *cries* speaking of which, how did you like evil Sirius? I didn't see you again after I posted chapter 11 of CoS part two, and I was beginning to get worried. Are you okay? You haven't been ran over by a car or anything? I've been parnoid of all these things ever since I nearly got ran over by a car on my bike, but that was years ago. Or is school murderous? *grins* boring monologues of an enraged farmer. Have you done yours yet? How did it go? Umm... you know what could be fun? Do an enraged farmer ranting about inflation prices and crappy merchandise and stupidity of big oil. But ack... that sounds... dorky. Nevermind...   
  
really, Shei? Wow, I never expected that! I always thought PoM or WS was better than CD. CD is probably my most... feared story since I'm so embarrassed about it now, but... wow! Thank you! I'm glad you liked Lily, Lucy! Well, as for what happens, you'll see soon!   
  
you're right, Abby! You were my first reviewer! Wow, that brings back memories, doesn't it? I have to dedicate the epilogue to you! It brings CD back full circle. The marsh, well... that was sort of explained at the beginning of the chapter, wasn't it? The marsh is the Dark Lord's realm, I cropped two chapters so the significance of the marsh was lost. It's great to see you again, Ayod Botla! How are things going at your end?   
  
I'm sorry, Kimmy! *offers tissues* don't cry, umm... eat chocolate! Ack, I'm so sorry for making you cry! Oh no, another cliffy *hides* Don't worry about reviewing every single chapter, MeShelly! That takes a lot of time! It's great that you're taking time to review at all, I'm very flattered.   
  
*grins* I know what you mean! Secretly reading fanfics when you're suppose to be doing your homework. I'm so sorry for making you cry! Er... but crying over chemistry is completely logical. Calculus is worse, it deserves full fledged wailing.   
  



	25. cheating life

Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.   
  
a/n this chapter is dedicated to Abby, the very first reviewer of Cheating Death. Wow, it has been a long time, hasn't it?   
  
  
  
**Cheating Death**  
By neutral   
  
  
  
Chapter thirty - cheating life   
  
  
  
Harry stared at the ashes in his hand dully. The weight of the events was gradually fading from his mind. He was alone in a no man's land, staring out at the dark unseeingly. Riddle lied. He wasn't living. But for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to care.   
  
Sirius was gone.   
  
His lungs pinched inward, squeezing all the air out of his chest in a suffocating wheeze. Harry trembled, his vision blurring the earth around him. Soon, loud sobs were raking his entire body. He knelt in the mud, not even bothering to muffle his cries.   
  
Suddenly, strong hands were lifting him up to his feet, burying him against coarse black robes and wrapping him in a tight hug. Harry looked up blearily, blinded by the light that flooded his vision.   
  
"Sirius?" he whispered hopefully.   
  
The man pulled away, and Harry could feel a warm hand pushing strands of hair out of his face and wiping at the blood on his cheek.   
  
"No," he said, traces of sadness in his voice.   
  
Harry blinked, trying to focus on the person in front of him. "Dad?"   
  
James' face sharpened abruptly. His lips were set in a thin line, concern clouding his brown eyes. Harry stared back at him numbly, still dazed. He took a step back, but at the slightest pressure, his legs buckled beneath him. James tightened his hold on Harry's body, guiding him quickly to a chair.   
  
It was then that Harry noticed his surroundings. The whitewashed ceiling of cottage stared back at him from above. Harry turned, his head feeling hollow and heavy, dimly noticing Lily standing beside him, desperately trying to hold her tears at bay.   
  
"How…?" Harry croaked, too tired to put his thoughts into words.   
  
"You just appeared…," Lily said softly. Her voice suddenly sank into silent sobs, and she fell to her knees, grasping his hand tightly. "What did he do to you?" she asked, gently tracing the blood caked against his skin.   
  
Harry shook his head, but every movement seemed to make the room swim before his eyes. He found himself leaning against James heavily, body too drained to even sit on its own. "Not my blood…," he whispered. "Sirius'…"   
  
James drew a sharp breath, "Sirius? He was there? Where is he?"   
  
At that, Harry broke down. He grasped the folds of his father's cloak, oblivious to the pain still stinging his body. He buried his face in the thick folds, sobbing so hard that he could barely even breathe.   
  
"Gone!" he gasped out. "He's gone!"   
  
James stiffened beside him, and Lily was dead silent. For a long time, the only echo of the room was the muffled sounds of Harry sobbing uncontrollably into his father's cloak. It was as if the previous façade of strength had melted away, and the weight of the previous occurrences crashed over him. He couldn't seem to dam the tears that blinded his eyes, or feel embarrassed at such a desperate display. The pain and loss was too overwhelming.   
  
Sirius was gone. He was gone! Even though his parents were at his side, it wasn't the same. They weren't there with him, constantly supporting him though his fourth year. Sirius knew. He understood. His parents just weren't the same.   
  
A reassuring hand touched his shoulder, but Harry flinched away. "Harry," Lily said gently, "What happened?"   
  
Harry shook his head angrily, refusing to meet anyone's eyes. "I… it… it was a curse… like a web… made him disappear…."   
  
But instead of the pain and shock seeping into her features, Lily's green eyes brightened in excitement. "A web? James, Thomas used the charm!"   
  
James' face lit up with a grin that seemed to stretch from ear to ear, the wrinkles fading from his face. That felt like a physical blow to him; Harry reeled back with a feeling of bitter betrayal. "Why…?"   
  
"Harry, Sirius isn't dead," James said, words wavering with barely suppressed relief. "He's alive!"   
  
Harry stilled, the sobs clogging as his throat gave a violent clench that pinched off his breaths. There was a brief surge of hope, before the hopeless defeat sank over him again. Heavily, Harry shook his head. "But that's… but I saw…"   
  
"No, Harry, listen to me," Lily firmly shook him, but her voice was soothing and soft. "A spirit doesn't die. Without his physical body, it's impossible for Sirius to die. The web is a charm. I know that spell. It breaks any charm cast on the body. All it did was send Sirius back to the living."   
  
Harry's eyes widened, and for a long minute, he was too stunned to feel nothing but a glazed shock. "Sirius… he's…?"   
  
"Harry, what happened to Riddle?" James urgently asked. He knelt beside his son and caught Harry's shoulder's in a firm and reassuring grasp. There were edges of anger as he mentioned his enemies name, and his brown eyes hardened as he took in the patches of blood that caked Harry's clothes.   
  
"I… I don't know. He just disappeared… I think I killed him," Harry choked, squeezing his eyes shut as the memory of Riddle, face contorted in a savage fury that brought a shiver down his spine. "I threw a spell at him, but I don't know what it was…"   
  
Then, oddly, Lily smiled, sinking forward over Harry's shoulder as if her legs had suddenly gave away beneath her. There was an unhindered reprieve shining through her still youthful face, and she made a strangled sound that sounded oddly like a choked sigh of relief. James grinned, planting a fierce kiss on his son's unruly mop of hair before drawing Harry into a desperate embrace. Harry stiffened in surprise, too bewildered to feel unease at the foreign gestures of affection.   
  
"What…?" Harry weakly whispered.   
  
Lily all but laughed, wrapping both her son and her husband in a lose hug. "You can go back! You've defeated him."   
  
Harry shook his head dazedly. "No… that's not right… I'm still here…"   
  
"No, Harry, do you remember what Sirius said? The only way you can return is if you want to," James pulled back, smiling as he gazed at his son. "You couldn't leave because Riddle was holding you back, but now, he's gone. Nothing's holding you back anymore."   
  
Stunned, Harry sank back in his chair feeling as if his bones were all but water. James' words barely registered in his mind, and even then, he couldn't summon up the surprise or excitement after a week of emotional exhaustion. Listening to them declare his freedom was so abrupt and unexpected that Harry was still trapped in dazed denial. It felt strange, anticlimactic, too simple and too shocking to be true. It was as if everything was but a hoax and their words were empty personification of dreams. And yet…   
  
Harry stared at his parents, but only relieved and happy expressions stared back at him. For the briefest of moments, there was a pang of hesitation. Even if he could leave, should he really leave them? He had barely been given any time with them: only less than a week with his father and just a day with his mother. Couldn't he stay for a few more days? Almost chewing his lip to contain the uncertainty, he wrapped his arms around his parents, embracing them both at the same time and burying his face in the crook of his father's neck.   
  
"Can't I stay?" he whispered hoarsely. "Just a few more hours…"   
  
James visibly flinched at those words, jerking away so sharply that Harry nearly slipped from his chair. "No! Harry, you heard what Riddle said. You might not be able to go back if you wait any longer," James insisted with firm determination.   
  
But Harry's unwillingness only doubled at his parent's affections. Shaking his head, Harry whispered muted protests, "But I've only met Mum for a day. Please…"   
  
"Harry, go," Lily said close to his ear. "Don't let us hold you back."   
  
Harry inwardly cringed at those words. Tightening his hold on his father's cloak, he sank from the chair and fell to his knees on the floor beside his parents. At the expression on Harry's face, the stubborn insistence softened in James face. Lightly, he ran his fingers through Harry's untamed hair and managed a forced smile.   
  
"Harry, Sirius must be worried sick about you right now, thinking that you've died. Go back, Harry. Go home," he said. There was reluctance in his eyes, but it was hidden in an instant. It was only years later that Harry considered the strength that James must have possessed, letting his son go a second time.   
  
But then, he had been too preoccupied, too exhausted, too muddled in his thoughts to notice. Harry paled at the mention of Sirius. What was his godfather going through, thinking that he lost Harry a second time? The memory of him, wan almost beyond recognition with Harry's lifeless body in his arms sent shivers down his spine. Harry stole another glance at his parents.   
  
There was a soft tingling in his hand. Looking down, Harry was surprised to see his shirt through his fingers. Harry lifted his hands, examining them in the bright light. His skin was ghostly white, rapidly becoming translucent. It followed down his arm like he was a piece of art and he was being washed away. But it left a feeling of numbness and peace.   
  
It was as if something deep in his subconscious had decided without his mind's consent, but Harry was too tired to fight for the fading desire to stay. If it had only been a week ago, he would have never given up a chance to be with his parents to anything in the world. But now, with Ron and Hermione grieving over him, Sirius sacrificing his life for him, and the understanding that his parents would have never wished that fate on him, he realized what he would have to give up.   
  
When faced with a fork in the river with the current carrying rapidly in an irreversible direction, he realized. He still didn't want to die.   
  
He gave his parents one last smile, trying to memorize every detail of his parents face before they disappeared again. The softness of his mother's red hair, the gleam of light in his father's brown eyes, every tone of their voices. Harry wanted to remember them forever.   
  
His parents didn't look surprised at all, but grief washed into their features as they watched him. A tear slipped down Lily's cheek, but she wiped it away forcibly and gave a him a shaky smile. James was taut and unmoving, but at the last moment, desperately reached for his hand in a frantic gesture. But then the world around him peeled away, and darkness engulfed him.   
  
A cold, wet land.   
  
'Harry!'   
  
Voices, resonating within his head.   
  
'Harry! No, no, no, please. Don't die! Harry!' Sirius' voice, choked and strained, came to him distantly in the softest of whispers.   
  
A low, sad phoenix song.   
  
"No, Harry. No, please.'   
  
Then light, white, white light that seemed to burn with their very brightness.   
  
  
  
  
  
Harry gasped, feeling as if he had just been doused in cold water and then beaten with a ton of bricks. His chest was tight and his body heavy. Even breathing hurt. He tried to turn his body to find a more comfortable position, but he was too tired. Opening his eyes seemed to take years.   
  
There was a sound of someone crying near his ear. Crying as if the entire world had shattered around him and was swallowing him in pieces. There was a tight pressure around his body, and he could feel himself being rocked softly back and forth. Finally, light peaked into his vision. He squinted, trying to focus, but everything came as a wild streak of black.   
  
"Sirius," he tried to say, but only a soft cough escaped his lips.   
  
But the sobs continued, the grip around his body never loosening. Harry could feel a hand smoothing out his hair gently; low, indistinguishable whispers muffled against his head. Slowly, Harry forced his hand to move. It was stiff and heavily, feeling like it weighed hundreds of pounds. He touched the arm wrapped around his shoulders, giving it a slight squeeze.   
  
The body beside him froze. There was a shifting of weight. The darkness pulled away and morphed into the strands of Sirius' hair, tangled and wild. His eyes were red and swollen, the lines were etched in his face. He stared at Harry for a long time, barely even drawing a breath, with a piercing stare that seemed to traverse right through him.   
  
"Sirius," Harry choked out, leaning against his godfather's shoulder weakly.   
  
A long strained silence fell over the room. Harry's flawed vision was too poor to discern the expression on his godfather's face, but Sirius was so still that he seemed petrified. There was a shuddering gasp, and instantly, Harry was drawn into a warm embrace that seemed to swallow him whole.   
  
"Harry!" Sirius' voice was barely recognizable through the rawness of his tone. But Harry could hear the soothing resonation of his tone beside his ear. "Harry… oh god, don't tell me this is another dream. Please…"   
  
Harry smiled weakly, too tired to form any coherent words of his own. Weakly, he managed a slight shake of his head and tightened his grasp on Sirius' arm.   
  
Sirius made a soft sound in the back of his throat, burying his face in Harry's unruly hair and wrapping him so tightly that the boy had to force himself not to cry out in protest.   
  
Despite raw scratchiness in his eyes and his throat so dry it felt scarred, Sirius managed a grin that seemed to make him decades younger. He wanted to laugh; his body trembling with the effort of restraint. It was relief, all the worry and frustration he experienced after he returned to discover Harry still lying lifelessly beside him becoming distant fears.   
  
Harry was alive! And at that moment, he could have cared less if the house was burning down all around him and Voldemort was pointing his wand at his back. Harry was alive; nothing else mattered.   
  
"No," Harry whispered, his voice raspy and thick in his throat. "I came home."   
  
  
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
  
  
End   
  
Ack! Disappointing ending, isn't it? I tried! I really did! *wails* Don't worry, an epilogue is underway. I need to change them a lot since most of them paves the way for the sequel, which has been discarded. I'm too lazy to change much, but you can tell they're not very well written since they were drafts that I wrote months ago, and the style was very… undeveloped. Well, they'll be posted as a chunk, since I know most of you are waiting for the encounter with Harry and everyone else after all this is over, but when it comes to rewriting CD and working on CoS, well… CD gets cheated. Umm… but if you would like to read the epilogues as they are, which would mean a much shorter delay but much lesser satisfaction with the quality of the work, then go ahead and yell at me. *hides* I'll post them up! umm... if anyone wants to pick up where CD left off and running with it, I don't mind, although I doubt that anyone would... humm...   
  
thanks for everyone who stuck with this story despite its numerous pit falls and overly extended hiati (is that the plural form?)! CD went through so many twists and scrapes, its amazing that people are still reading. Thanks for everyone's support, even though the story sort of flaked off towards the end *sigh* but I'm glad you read nevertheless. thank you all so much! CD would never have made it here without your support, and if you hadn't all kept urging me to finish, I would have let the thing die on my harddrive. Once again, thank you!   
  
My question and answer page, ACKisms ( http://www.feffi.net/ack ) is up, although it was somewhat of a spontaneous decision. I had some free time, and rather than writing, I went off and made a webpage *cries* I donnuo if its even necessary though, it's just this page where I respond to questions, which could possibly be answered anyone if anyone emailed me personally. Humm… but I really liked the picture… and its really neat to answer questions on there 'cause blogging is really fun. Ack! Someone hit me really hard…   
  
Kaydee, did you get my message? its on the ACKism website, it was on the scrapbook, but it stuck out like a sore thumb and I moved it. It felt really embarrassing signing my own guestbook *hides* but I wasn't sure how else to contact you. you sounded like you needed an answer very urgently. Evil Sirius is oddly very difficult to characterize! Having him in a scene with Voldie, ack... its so hard! I keep trying to imagine how Snape would act, or how Malfoy would act, or how... urg... and comparing Siring to them doesn't work! ack ack ack. wow, your camp sounded fun! *cackle cackle* you should check that guy's blood caffine count. it doesn't seem too healthy...   
  
Lily of the Valley, glad to see you back! Glad to see your muse back up and running too *nudge nudge* yes, I know of Duke University, its very high respected. And since I'm graduating early, or planning to anyway, I've been taking a look at colleges to see which ones I might apply. I take a lot of SAT practice exams, and so far my score's been leveling out at 1430 ish... its rather sad. i probably wouldn't make it to Duke since its probably the 14th most selective in the nation. you're writing a novel? yay! what is it about? you should try posting a chapter to see the response and remove it again, it's no big deal. I saw QR, and I reviewed it too! The first chapter is just the build up, but once the plot starts rolling, it'll get very interesting. House elves trying to eat Harry? eh? No! They were trying to hug him, but Harry freaked out and Sirius had to fend them off. Harry is an... ape?!?! are you okay? have you been inhalling poisonous fumes? *offers grapefruit*   
  
eh, Sirius torture is bad but Harry torture's okay? that's not fair! although, Sirius does get his fair share of torture, abiet emotionally. What did you think of the ending, Wishful Thinker? It wasn't... too... what's a good word for it... urg?   
  
but ack has been somehow permanately ingrained in my mind, katie. it's impossible to remove. I'm glad you liked the last chapter! This chapter is far from being as good, and I hope CD wasn't ruined for you because of it.   
  
*grins* you were right, lady knight of kennan, Nicky, Brighid! I was so tempted to pull another the end joke, but it seemed too evil right after the previous one since I never told anyone how many chapters this story was going to be. ack!   
  
it ended okay, right, wellduh...? chem isn't so bad when it comes to titration, but electrion configuration, Spark-chick? *dies repeatedly* that was torture! especially since our evil teacher likes to do like... three and a half chapters a week and a test of Friday. he's planning a vacation and retirement before the end of the year to use up all his saved hoildays or something... grrr...   
  
acccck! ffNET keeps leaking reviews! CoS lost 3, CD lost 2, GI lost 1, and if you go back a few weeks, WS lost 23. grrr... PoM hasn't lost any, but still! but i guess ffNET is so large that its really hard to maintain, so there isn't anything we can do about it except burn incense and wish them good luck and health. *sigh*   
  



	26. cheating a snake

Disclaimer: all characters belong to J K Rowling and Warner brothers.   
  
a/n updated an   
  
  
  
**Cheating Death**  
By neutral   
  
  
  
Epilogue - cheating a snake   
  
  
  
The days that followed Harry since the moment he closed his eyes were myriads of dreams. He treaded through an endless see of darkness, each step painfully slow as the earth itself seemed to swallow him. Whispers accompanied him, tickling his ear one moment, then screaming at him the next. And through the darkness, there was suddenly light, blessed light. The air was warm, unusually so, and the woods around him looked like the Forbidden Forest on a good day. The dream was fractured, or was it his memory? He never seemed to dream coherently; he would see darkness one moment, and then light the next. Quiet suddenly, the voices would silence, and he would be lost again. Other times, he would open his eyes and see darkness, and wonder if his eyes were truly open. He would see his father's face, then sometimes Sirius', blending together in his vision until he couldn't discern one from the other.   
  
Once he woke and saw a blurry face with pale brown hair, watching him with an expression that he couldn't see. He could hear fragments of words, convoluted and twisted into an indiscernible form when they met his ears. Harry squinted, struggling to focus his flawed eyes.   
  
The flaxen haired man paused, his cloak rustling audibly through the room. Slowly, he drew closer and soundlessly knelt beside the bed.   
  
"Harry?" came a gentle whisper.   
  
The voice was familiar, but Harry was too tired to think much about it.   
  
He had a vague idea of the room becoming brighter, and a blurry shape move into his vision. His eye lids were fighting themselves again; he wanted nothing more to close them and sleep.   
  
"Harry?" the man said again, more urgently. "Are you awake?"   
  
The voice abruptly clicked in his mind. "Professor Lupin?" he tried to say, but the name came out in a dry croak.   
  
Remus slumped forward, and even through his blurred vision, Harry could tell he was smiling warmly.   
  
"Thank god you're okay," Remus said through a long sigh. He placed his hand tentatively on Harry's shoulder as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "We were so worried. I was so worried. Harry… don't ever do something like that again. Don't ever…"   
  
Harry wasn't sure how to reply. Remus' hand shook slightly over the thin blankets, but his eyes were too poor to discern the expression on his former professor's face. He seemed so much paler, so much wearier, Harry couldn't imagine how Remus must have looked with his glasses.   
  
Remus ran his hand harshly through his light brown hair, and sighed again. "I'm sorry. I know you never asked for any of this. You never deserved any of this. But please, Harry, don't place yourself in this kind of situation. We…" Remus broke off sharply. He turned away halting, shaking his head. "Please be careful, Harry. We… Sirius, Dumbledore, Ron, and Hermione… they care too much about you for you to be hurt."   
  
Harry swallowed, not trusting himself to speak with his parched throat, and managed a slight nod of apology. "Sirius…?" Harry worriedly asked, struggling to turn his head to scan the room.   
  
"Resting, don't worry," Remus patted his shoulder, some of his previous anxiety fading. "He tried very hard to stay awake, but in the end, Madam Pomfrey's potions got to him first. He needed to recuperate, after all that's happened. But Sirius is unhurt, don't worry."   
  
Harry sank back against the bed with a small sigh of relief.   
  
Remus seemed to smile at his reaction. "Sirius was… ecstatic when you returned. I had fallen asleep in the kitchen that night, and Sirius nearly hauled me, chairs and all, to see you. Do you remember?"   
  
Harry frowned slightly. That had happened? He had no idea. All he could remember was whispering vague and blurred words to his godfather before everything fragmented. But dragging Remus out of his chair… Harry smiled at the image. It seemed like something Sirius would do.   
  
But another thought slammed into the back of his head, and he jolted in response. "Ron… Hermione?" Harry choked out. If Remus had been cracking under the load of the recent events, how had his closest friends reacted? His stomach clenched at just the thought.   
  
Remus pressed him back restrainingly, dragging the warm sheets to his chin. "It's okay, don't worry," Remus was obviously trying hard to be reassuring, but Harry only became more apprehensive at his effort. As if seeing the expression on his face, Remus hastily continued, "They were… very upset. But they were very excited when they heard of what happened. They're very eager to visit you."   
  
  
  
  
  
That was all he remembered of that conversation with Remus, although thinking back, he must have spent over a hour in his former professor's company. He must have drifted into consciousness countless times, but he could never recall any of those. But one memory stood poignantly in his mind; the day when he opened his eyes and saw two people he never thought he'd see again.   
  
It was hard to miss that flaming red hair and frizzy light brown curls even with that blurred vision. With the bright room, he could just barely make out the red head, slouched over the edge of the bed and watching him intently and the long brown-haired girl sitting beside him. The taller boy shifted, sending a bright burst of light into his eyes, and Harry shut them quickly.   
  
"He looks so pale," the girl whispered.   
  
Harry could feel a hand brush against his wrist, searching for his pulse. There was a relieved sigh.   
  
"He's alive."   
  
"Well, of course Harry's alive! Did you really think Dumbledore would lie?"   
  
There was no reply.   
  
"Are the side-effects of the killing curse really this bad? Harry looks like he's been ill for months," the girl said softly.   
  
"Lupin said something about having your spirit torn up and fit back together. This doesn't usually happen to people who survive the curse, but not that anyone's survived it before…"   
  
There was a shuddering sob. "I can't believe Harry was dead! It was like… like… oh, I don't know!"   
  
The crying sent stabs of guilt down his spine. Troubled, Harry opened his eyes, squinting to focus, and slowly dragged his head across the pillow. His body was heavy, his movements sluggish. Even the thoughts in his mind seemed to pass through mud. But there was only one concern in his mind, and that was his friends. The movement caught their attention immediately, and for a long moment, no one spoke. It was impossible for Harry to discern their expression; without his glasses, everything came as a wild smear of colors in his vision.   
  
There was a sharp gasp, and instantly, Harry was engulfed in a choking embrace with light brown hair blinding his eyes.   
  
"You're awake! You're okay! You're alive!" she choked on the last words, dissolving into another fit of tears.   
  
"Hermione?" But his voice was a strangled croak that sounded strange to even his ears. Nevertheless, Harry smiled weakly, turning to his blurry red-headed friend.   
  
Ron's expression was impossible to read, or perhaps it was only because of his faulty vision. But then, Ron trembled so violently that Harry could even make it out.   
  
"Don't you ever, ever do that again!" Ron hissed angrily. But a tremor in his words betrayed him completely. "Don't you ever run off and get yourself killed or I'll…"   
  
"Ron, don't say that!" Hermione interrupted quickly, her grip around Harry's neck never relenting.   
  
"I don't care! Harry, do you have any idea how miserable you made Hermione, and Ginny, and Fred, and George, and Mum, and…," he trailed off, shaking his head. "Where you even thinking? Did you even care? If you didn't look so ill I… I'd throttle you right now!"   
  
Ron turned away, unable to speak. But Harry could see the shudder in his shoulders despite his angry words. Hermione had gone silent. How much had his death tortured them? Harry wondered. How much did they suffer when he didn't even spare them one thought. Harry couldn't escape the ripple of remorse stirring in the back of his mind.   
  
Slowly, Harry urged his hand to move. But there were numb fingers entwined in his muscles and rusted hinges in his joints; just bending it seemed to take all his strength. He grasped the edge of his best friend's sleeve, twisting it in a death grip.   
  
"I'm sorry," he whispered.   
  
Ron jerked his sleeve out of Harry's grip, turning his face away. For a moment, Harry thought he would yell angrily again, but instead, he drew his robes over his face. His breathing became strained and uneven, and it was only then that Harry realized he was crying. It must be embarrassing, for someone so proud and stubborn like Ron to break down in front of his friends.   
  
"You better be sorry," Ron finally choked out.   
  
"Ron, stop it! Harry didn't ask for any of this," Hermione said defensively.   
  
Ron quieted, but his shoulders still shook. Slowly, Harry reached out for Ron's cloak again, tugging sluggishly at thin fabric. Ron turned at the movement, and without warning, enclosed Harry's wrist in his hand with a desperate jerk. His grip was so firm that Harry could feel his fingers numb. But even so, he smiled, the room blurry and unfocused, and his two best friends at his side.   
  
"I won't do it again," Harry whispered.   
  
"You better not!" Ron snapped, but his tone had softened considerably, and he gripped his best friend's hand so tightly it was painful.   
  
Harry managed a small smile. The heaviness in his body was slowly turning into numbness, and voices were beginning to take on a muffled tone. His eyelids felt like solid weights, begging to fall down, and his body felt devoid of bone.   
  
"Harry, next time, at least tell us about your dreams, alright?" Hermione pleaded. Her face darkened with concern when Harry was silent. "Harry?"   
  
Ron pushed forward, clutching his friend's shoulder and shaking him with a sense of desperation. "Harry!" he said, louder than he intended. "Harry, stay awake!"   
  
Harry just moaned in response, too tired to respond. His body was screaming for rest; more than anything, he just wanted to lie back on the bed and sleep. Too weary to fight, he simply submitted to the darkness at the corners of his vision.   
  
  
  
  
  
The room finally swam back into focus for Harry another two days later. He stirred under the covers, reluctant to leave the warm cocoon. Harry blinked at the blurry ceiling in confusion, before the memories trickled back to him. Sighing, he shifted carefully, testing his strength. His body was still heavy, but he could lift his arms without a problem. But his muscles in that arm felt oddly watery; Harry missed the gift of regeneration that proved so useful (although for not very good reasons) in the Land of the Dead.   
  
Harry turned his head, trying to look around. A smile tugged at his lips when he caught sight of Sirius, sprawled against the side of the bed, half of his body in a chair, looking extremely uncomfortable. Remus was asleep in a chair behind him, worn and tired. Both looked terrible, in his opinion. Although Sirius had put on some weight, he was still frighteningly skinny. His hair hadn't flared much better, rather crudely washed and brushed. Remus had dark circles under his eyes, looking like he just suffered an untimely full moon.   
  
Harry shifted again, suddenly realizing he was extremely thirsty. At first, he tried to ignore it, not wanting to disturb the two obviously tired men. But his entire throat felt like someone had scraped it with sandpaper. Groaning, he pulled himself into a sitting position, his back protesting all the way. The oversized shirt and pants he wore weren't his, that was for sure. It wasn't wide enough for Dudley, but it was so long it reached his knees; the legs of the pants were cropped just short enough not to trip him. It probably belonged to Sirius or Remus, he decided.   
  
The air was cold, or were his blankets warm? Harry rubbed it between his fingers, noting how they seemed to radiate heat with traces of the warming charm. He pulled the edge of the blanket and covered Sirius as well as he could before he moved off the bed. The room swayed wildly, and Harry leaned against the bed until his vision steadied. His legs shook under his weight, but they held. Harry passed Remus on his way out and pulled a tattered cloak that was draped across the chair over him.   
  
Walking seemed to take a lot more energy than he remembered. He stumbled past the door, leaning heavily against the wall, and looked around for the kitchen. Everything came as a blur, and Harry decided, before anything, he needed to find his glasses.   
  
He looked around, a flash of light catching his eye. There, on the coffee table. Harry walked towards it haltingly, without a wall to support him. He almost stumbled several times, and by the time he picked up the lens and the room came back into focus, he was soaked in cold sweat and gasping for air. The entire endeavor felt like hours. Strained, Harry half fell half sat down on the floor, feeling as if he could never stand up again. He eyed the short distance to the kitchen ruefully, before finally settling on a mug full of some brown stuff on the table. Harry drank in hungrily, coughing when cooling water ran down his parched throat, and made a face. Cold black coffee tasted awful on an empty stomach.   
  
But as Harry sat in the silent room, the cold mug in his hands, he found his thoughts unconsciously returning to the woods of the dead. There was a lingering emptiness that James and Lily left, more acute and painful than ever. Harry could almost hear his father's inquiring voice, his mother's light laugh. He wished he could have stayed, but Sirius loss was too great then. Harry couldn't bring himself to leave his godfather behind.   
  
There was a shuffle from the room he left, and muffled voices that sounded more and more frantic. Harry looked back at the door, wondering if Sirius or Remus was awake.   
  
Heavy footsteps. And then a loud, "Harry!"   
  
Harry blinked in surprise at the desperate tone of Sirius' voice. The tall form of his godfather rushed into the living room, followed by Remus with ruffled hair and bleary eyes. Sirius caught sight of Harry, sitting on the floor beside the coffee table, and gave a long sigh of relief.   
  
"Harry, don't do that!" Sirius said wearily.   
  
"I just wanted to get some water," Harry meekly said, a bit surprised.   
  
"You should have woken one of us up," Remus whispered, falling against the door frame with a soft sigh. "Sirius was frightened half to death. He thought you vanished again."   
  
Embarrassed, Harry nervously glanced at Sirius, but his godfather was pinning his friend with a death glare.   
  
"Sorry," Harry whispered, unable to think of anything else to say.   
  
Sirius' glare slipped from his face instantly, his expression softening into concern as he almost cautiously approached. He suddenly seemed pensive.   
  
"How are you feeling?" Sirius softly asked, sitting on the floor beside Harry as he searched his godson's face worriedly.   
  
Harry paused. "Tired," he said with a small shrug. It was only after the word slipped from his mouth that he felt the flicker of surprise. On any normal occasion, he would have denied it, but he couldn't seem to lie to his godfather.   
  
"Should I get Madam Pomfrey?" Not waiting for a response, Sirius glanced over his shoulder to his friend. "Remus, do you think we should get Harry to Madam Pomfrey?"   
  
But Remus wasn't paying attention; he made a strange sound in the back of his throat, and approached Harry with long strides.   
  
"Sirius, did you see this?" he asked, pulling away the collar Harry's oversized shirt. Harry looked up, confused. Sirius seemed equally baffled, but he paled when he examined the base of Harry's neck.   
  
"It wasn't there three days ago," he said softly.   
  
Harry twisted uncomfortably, growing more anxious at their reactions. "What is it?" He flinched when a finger touched his neck, and the it stung with a burn.   
  
There was silence, before Sirius guided Harry's hand to a spot below the base of his neck. Harry gasped when he traced an unfamiliar zigzag of the flesh, still fresh and moist with blood. Remus transfigured an empty glass into some bandages and pressed it against the skin firmly.   
  
"A scar… in the shape of a coiled snake," Sirius whispered.   
  
  
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  
  
  
End.   
  
CD is done, finished, zippo! Yes! *takes a huge breath and dances around in relief*   
  
It leaves off in preparation for the sequel, but… there will be no sequel, no sequel, **no sequel!** I feel like a broken record for saying that over and over, but everyone keeps asking *cries* I am adamant about it! NO SEQUEL! If you want to read one, write one! *nod nod* SAT's making me cruel... but still, no sequel. And nothing will change my mind! *evil cackle* There are two people interested in writing the sequel to CD, so you can't complain against me anymore. So there! Ha! Dy aka WeasleyTwinsLover1112 has offered, and Unicorn Whisper tentatively might be (did you get my email? i sent you what i had of the beginning, i hope it was helpful). They're both great authors, and they're going to make Playing Life a wonderful fic, much more wonderful than Cheating Death.   
  
Doesn't close off well, does it? It begins with a Harry and Sirius focus, and leaves off without resolving anything. Maybe I'll write another chapter... later, much, much later. Please don't ask me to write another chapter of the epilogue, or a sequel! I'm dying here! But if a reviewer hit 500, 1000, or 1500 want to request one (or would you like to request another chapter of Good Intentions, PoM, or CoS), then I'll gladly write one. But since then, it will not be possible. I lost my muse for CD, so writing it feels like I'm being tortured by a cattle brand. That's pretty much why I don't really want to touch CD again. Please, be considerate! Be understanding! *cries*   
  
now that you mention it, Snape and Dumbledore never made a comeback. It was planned for the sequel, but the sequel never appeared. And I can't post the rough drafts for my sequel either, because there are none. *sigh*   
  
humm... Cheating Death was one of my first stories, so it was sort of a hit and miss series for me. It started off like a craze, I wrote about a chapter a day and finished the entire thing in less than a month, then went back to carve and polish it. but then, coming back to read it three months later... the thing felt so horrible cliche ridden and whiny mushy that... I donnuo. It just felt off. CD lacks the realism in PoM and the compact plot of WS. Parts of the story just isn't believable, the situation, the actions, the characters. They lack depth and a solid personality. Harry was close to being static the entire way through, which shouldn't have happened considering the situation. He should have grown into someone more confident, determined, strong, and more emotionally secure, but all that happened was that he was guilty and got over it. That was it. Remus was close to being ignored. Ron and Hermione were too, and Snape who came in vaguely important just pulled a disappearing act. All in all, CD was a fic that closed off with a handful of loose ends. It feels... lacking, not exactly incomplete since the plot did pull to a close, but sort of, emotionally lacking... kind of like when you see a long movie and leave off wondering what the hell the point of it was. ack! i'm so sorry. i really shouldn't bash like this, but... its just that that's how I feel about CD... its a nightmare! WS didn't leave off like this. CD falls several feet short of WS, mostly because WS came to a close with all strings tied and left the reader with a sense of completeness. CD just drops like a brick in water... humm... this brings the question of how PoM will leave the reader. *cackle cackle cackle evil cackle wheeze wheeze* this'll be fun   
  
humm... this author's note will be short, because I really don't remember much about the fic or my mind set when I first wrote it. That was the time when I didn't really think much about Sirius, or wasn't a complete Sirius fan (that seems like a loooong time ago), but just liked the idea of Harry finally being able to have a parental figure. But then, as the story wrote itself, suddenly, out of nowhere, Harry died!!! I really did not plan that. Initially, it was Sirius being freed by the random incident, but my fingers had another thought in mind. When I read over what I wrote, my first thought was 'oops!' and then 'oh well... okay.' and then '*cackle* this'll be fun' or something to that affect. I never planned the outcome of CD, but I didn't do that for WS, CoS, or PoM either. Its sort of a bad habit, but its the only way I can write. But then when there's moodswings or random bursts of frustration, you get incidents like... chapter 28 in WS. acccccccccck! that was a big oopsie! But pretend you didn't know that.   
  



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